


Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving

by Alette



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alette/pseuds/Alette
Summary: It's 2003, and Park Seonghwa just turned 13.The next morning, it's 2020, and Park Seonghwa just turned 30.Based on the movie 13 Going On 30
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 222
Kudos: 277
Collections: Seongjoong Week 2020





	1. Almost a grownup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [promptis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/promptis/gifts).



> For SeongJoong Week, day 4: Movie. If you haven't watched 13 Going On 30, give it a try! It's fun and i hope i do it justice
> 
> There is also an [absolutely gorgeous fanart](https://twitter.com/angelbbysan/status/1265323475738062853) to accompany this piece, made of course by the wonderful, super awesome [@angelbbysan](https://twitter.com/angelbbysan)!!! Go check it out and give it all the love and adoration it deserves ♡
> 
> Pretty straightforward fic i'd say, heavily based off the movie but not 100%. Total chapter count won't exceed 10, don't worry ^^
> 
> This fic is for my partner in crime, the ultra sweet ultra talented nab ♡ thank you for always screaming over seongjoong and ateez with me!!

It was April 3rd, and Park Seonghwa was a whole thirteen years old.

It was a pretty big deal. Thirteen was a teenager, almost a grownup, and in no time Seonghwa would be able to drive and drink beer and stop going to school—all the fun stuff only grown ups got to do. He wasn’t a kid anymore. It wasn’t just a pretty big deal, it was a huge deal.

But no one except Seonghwa seemed to care.

His mom just kissed him on the forehead while she made breakfast before she left for work. His older sisters said happy birthday and patted his head and that was it. His dad didn’t even seem to remember, rushing out the door because he was late for work. It was totally unfair.

The only person who actually cared was the one person Seonghwa knew he could always count on, his one and only best friend. 

“So what’s it like?” asked Hongjoong, eyes big. 

“Awesome,” said Seonghwa, and that was the truth. He felt awesome. 

“You’re, like, a teenager now,” said Hongjoong, as they walked down the school hallway. “Soon you’re gonna get all tall and get a girlfriend.”

Seonghwa shoved him. “Shut up,” he mumbled.

“I can’t wait until my birthday,” said Hongjoong. He frowned. “Why did November have to be so far?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be thirteen one day too,” said Seonghwa smugly. 

Hongjoong grumbled and whacked him on the arm, making Seonghwa laugh.

“You know, I saw something on TV last night,” said Hongjoong. “They said that a man’s life really starts when he’s thirty. Thirty, flirty, and thriving, the lady in the show said. Like, that’s the best time of our lives.”

Seonghwa made a face. “That’s so old.”

“I dunno, it doesn’t sound that bad,” said Hongjoong. “We won’t have to go to school anymore, and we’ll probably have our own cars and houses and stuff.”

That actually didn’t sound that bad. Seonghwa thought about it, and then asked, “We’ll still be friends, right?”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” said Hongjoong. 

Then Seonghwa liked it too. “Thirty, huh?” he said. “We can drive our cars to each other’s houses.”

“And we’ll listen to all my songs,” said Hongjoong eagerly. He was gonna be famous, a big rapper like the ones Seonghwa sometimes saw on TV. 

Seonghwa nodded, excited. “It’s gonna be so cool.”

Hongjoong grinned, big and bright. “Totally,” he said. “Come on, let’s get ice cream after school. It’s your birthday so I’ll pay.”

“Kim Hongjoong, you’re the best friend ever,” said Seonghwa, and he really meant it.

They went to the ice cream place after school. Usually they wouldn’t dare go without asking their parents, but Seonghwa was thirteen now and pretty much an adult, so it was okay. The whole time they ate Seonghwa talked all about how his family was probably planning something big for him.

“That’s why they didn’t say anything in the morning,” he said. “It’s a surprise.”

“Wow, a whole surprise party,” said Hongjoong, eyes shining. “I wish I could go.”

“You can totally come,” said Seonghwa. “We’re best friends, you’re definitely coming. My mom will probably call your mom tonight. The only reason she didn’t yet is ’cause you’d tell me.”

“It’s gonna be so much fun,” said Hongjoong, bouncing in his chair.

It was going to be so much fun. As soon as Seonghwa got home he washed up, changed into his nice shirt, and went up to his room to wait until everything was ready and his parents would call him to come and see his surprise party.

Seonghwa sat on his bed and waited. And waited. Outside the sun went down, and afternoon became sunset, and then evening. Seonghwa wondered what was taking them so long. Maybe his mom was making a lot of food? Or they’d invited a lot of people and they all hadn’t shown up yet.

It got dark, and Seonghwa got hungry. He didn’t want to, but his stomach was killing him, and he had to. He left his room and went downstairs.

It was quiet. He could hear the TV, and that was it. No people, no singing. Nothing. There were no decorations up either, no balloons or streamers. 

Seonghwa walked into the living room and found his sister Seunghee there, watching a movie. “Noona?” he said.

“Oh, Seonghwa,” she said, turning away from the TV and smiling at him. “You came downstairs. Hungry?”

“Where is everyone?” asked Seonghwa.

“Everyone? You mean Seungyeon?” asked Seunghee. “Her boss called, they need her at the store or something.”

“And Mom? Dad?”

“They’re at work, Seonghwa,” said Seunghee. 

“What about my party?” asked Seonghwa.

Seunghee frowned. “Party?”

“My—my birthday party—” But there wasn’t. Even Seonghwa knew it now. There were no balloons, no people. Not even his mom and dad. There was no party.

“Hwa, I’m sorry, but Mom and Dad are really busy,” said Seunghee. “You know they work every night. We’ll have your party on Saturday—”

“But Saturday’s not my birthday,” said Seonghwa. “Today is.”

He wanted to stomp his feet, cry, but he couldn’t. He was thirteen now. He wasn’t a kid. Even if no one cared, today was his birthday, and he was thirteen.

“Hwa, I’m sorry,” said Seunghee. She smiled. “Hey, how about we make some cookies? I think we have all the stuff we need.”

“I don’t want _cookies_ ,” cried Seonghwa. “It’s my _birthday_.” He’d even told Hongjoong, he was supposed to come too—

“Don’t yell at me,” said Seunghee, getting up. “You’re not a kid, don’t throw a tantrum. I told you, we can’t just have a party now, you need to wait until Saturday—”

Seonghwa turned and ran back upstairs. He could hear Seunghee yelling at him, telling him to come back down, but he ignored her. He went straight to his room and shut the door.

It wasn’t fair. It was his birthday, and his parents wouldn’t throw a party for him. They wouldn’t even stay home. They worked every day, they couldn’t stay one afternoon for Seonghwa? It was his birthday, and a special one. 

“Special to me,” murmured Seonghwa as he stared out the window. No one else cared. 

He looked up at the night sky, and something flashed across it. Seonghwa straightened with a gasp. It was a shooting star. A real shooting star, and he’d seen it, so he got to have a real wish come true.

Seonghwa closed his eyes and thought hard. He wished he wasn’t turning thirteen. He wished—wished for—

He wished he was turning thirty. Like what Hongjoong talked about, being an adult, living the best time of his life. He’d have his own car, and his own house, and he’d listen to Hongjoong’s songs and go see him. He’d be able to throw his own party, and invite all the people he wanted, do whatever he wanted.

When the wish was done, Seonghwa opened his eyes. He was still in his room, still thirteen. He lay down, curling up on his bed while he hugged his pillow. He didn’t want to be thirteen anymore. 

Seonghwa closed his eyes, still wishing hard.

Something was beeping. Really loud. Seonghwa groaned, rolling around in his bed. What was that? How could he get it to stop?

He stuck his arm out, feeling for his bedside table and felt—bed. His bed wasn’t that big.

Seonghwa opened his eyes, rubbing them as he sat up. And then he froze.

He wasn’t in his room. He wasn’t in his house at all. It was a bedroom, but huge. One side was just glass, and he could see the city outside, all skyscrapers and big buildings. The room Seonghwa was in was all white, the three proper walls, the bed, everything. Even the table next to the bed was white.

That was where the beeping was coming from. Something on top of it actually, a little slab of black that was glowing and making the terrible noise.

Seonghwa approached cautiously. It was flat, rectangular. The side on top was glowing like the TV screen, the time flashing on it. 

He poked it. A message popped up, saying to swipe. Careful, Seonghwa slid his finger over the writing. The beeping stopped.

That was one problem solved. Now the big one: where was Seonghwa?

It was a bedroom. It didn’t look like a prison. Who’d brought Seonghwa here? Why? He’d been in his room, and maybe he’d fallen asleep, then…

Seonghwa started towards the door, and on the way he passed a big mirror fitted on the wall. His reflection went across it. His reflection? His—

Seonghwa ran back to the mirror. The person in it wasn’t him.

He was a grown up, around Seonghwa’s parents’ age. His face was all sculpted and strong, like the handsome actors on TV, his hair was black and messy on his head. Seonghwa raised a hand. The man in the mirror did the same. Seonghwa tilted his head, and so did the reflection. 

The reflection. _His_ reflection. Then—

Seonghwa looked down at his body. He was _big_. Tall, long legs, built. His hands were too big. His hands looked like they belonged to the guy in the mirror.

The guy in the mirror. Seonghwa’s reflection.

Seonghwa.

He screamed.


	2. Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa finds out about his life as a thirty-year-old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! Hope you like this one too

Seonghwa ran his hands through his hair. “Okay,” he said, and jumped when he heard his voice. It was so _deep_. “Okay,” he said again. “You’re—old. Okay. You’re an adult now. That’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

He wanted to scream again. He dropped down on the cold tiled floor and screwed his eyes shut. Nothing was fine. Seonghwa was supposed to be thirteen, how was he suddenly a fully grown adult? What happened? 

He’d been mad, gone up to his room after yelling at his sister. He’d sat in front of his bedroom window and looked out and he’d seen a shooting star, and he’d closed his eyes and wished—

He’d wished he was thirty. 

Seonghwa opened his eyes. Thirty. He looked down at his hands. They looked thirty years old. He glanced at the mirror, and the face in it looked thirty.

“It worked,” he whispered to himself. The shooting star had worked.

Seonghwa was thirty years old.

He jumped up. He couldn’t believe it. He was thirty, and he was here, in his own room in his own house, like Hongjoong had said.

The bedroom was huge, and looked fancy. Seonghwa opened one door and found a bathroom bigger than his bedroom at home, all covered in shiny tiles and with a bathtub bigger than his bed. The other door in the bedroom led to the rest of the apartment, which was huge just like the bedroom. There was another room that didn’t have a bed, just a big fancy desk, and there was a shiny kitchen and there was even a room that was filled only with exercise machines, like a gym, but in his own house. Seonghwa couldn’t believe it. Thirty-year-old him was _rich_.

He walked into another room and came face to face with a person.

Seonghwa screamed. The person started, and then quickly bowed, saying, “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“S-sir?” Who was he calling sir? Seonghwa? 

“I startled you,” said the person. He was a man, old like Seonghwa, with black hair over his forehead and dressed in a kind of uniform. “I’ll leave—”

“No, wait,” said Seonghwa, grabbing his arm before he could go. “Wh—who are you?”

The man raised his head, looking Seonghwa in the eye for the first time. “Jongho, sir,” he said. “It’s my turn for the housekeeping.” 

“I have someone to clean my house for me?” Seonghwa gaped at him. Only the rich families on TV had housekeepers, and Seonghwa did too…

Jongho looked confused. “Sir?”

Seonghwa snapped back to reality. Right. He was this man’s boss. He stood straight, like the rich love interests did in the dramas Seungyeon liked, and said, “I have questions for you.”

“Of course,” said Jongho. He was still bowing a bit, but he looked shorter than Seonghwa, and Seonghwa was giddy. He was rich _and_ tall. 

No, he had to focus. “What’s the date?” he asked.

“April fourth,” said Jongho.

April fourth. One day after his birthday. Seonghwa frowned, calculating hard. “And… the year…?”

If Jongho was freaked out, he didn’t show it. “2020.”

Then Seonghwa really was thirty, he was in the future and he was thirty, he was thirty and tall and handsome and rich—

“Wow,” said Seonghwa.

He looked at Jongho, who was waiting for him to say something or let him go. Seonghwa was going to tell him he was dismissed, like a proper rich person would, when he suddenly heard a loud beeping from behind him. He jumped, whirled around. 

“What was that?” he asked, backing up and grabbing Jongho. 

“I think that was your phone, sir,” said Jongho calmly. “Will you go answer it?” 

“Yeah,” said Seonghwa. “Sure.”

He left, but unwillingly. It was right in the morning, who wanted to call him? He was an adult, he didn’t have school, he could do whatever he wanted.

He followed the sound to the bedroom he’d woken up in. There, on the bedside table, was the flat black brick that had woken him up, ringing and lit up on the front.

“Whoa,” breathed out Seonghwa as he picked it up. So this was what phones looked like in 2020. There were no buttons, the front of it was just screen. A little green button was on it, and gently Seonghwa poked it with a fingertip. The call was picked up. 

Hurriedly he placed the phone against his ear. “Hello?”

“Sir,” came the voice on the line. It was a man, with a deep voice. “I apologize for the call, but you didn’t indicate you received the message. The meeting was rescheduled to 11 am. You don’t need to come in before then so I’ve called ahead and let the driver know to pick you up.”

“Okay,” said Seonghwa. “Um. Thank you.”

The call ended before Seonghwa could even say goodbye. He looked down at the phone screen and just caught the name of the caller: Kang Yeosang.

Someone thirty-year-old him worked with. Seonghwa groaned aloud. He forgot adults had to work. Still, it couldn’t be worse than school. All you had to do was sit in front of a computer all day and type on it, plus they gave you money for it. It sounded pretty good.

He heard a sound somewhere else in the house and quickly followed it to see Jongho at the front door. “Where are you going?” asked Seonghwa.

“Home,” said Jongho slowly.

Right. Jongho had a house too. He didn’t live with Seonghwa, that wouldn’t make sense, and besides—

“Hey, do I live alone here?” asked Seonghwa.

Jongho gave Seonghwa a long look, kind of careful, and then he said, “Yes.”

“I knew that,” said Seonghwa quickly. “I just asked ’cause—just ’cause.”

That got him another look. Jongho looked like he was debating something in his head, and for a long time he just stood there until he finally asked, “Sir, are you okay?”

“Fine,” said Seonghwa, maybe a little too loud. He thought hard for some believable reason and it came to him all of a sudden. “I—It was my birthday yesterday,” he said. “I drank a lot and my head still feels kind of fuzzy.”

“Oh.” Jongho shifted uncomfortably. “Belated happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” said Seonghwa. He stopped. “You didn’t know? I didn’t have a party or anything?”

“I don’t know, sir, I wouldn’t have been invited,” said Jongho. He shifted, moving closer to the door. “I have a class so…”

“Right, yeah, you can go,” said Seonghwa. “Um, thanks.”

Jongho looked super concerned, but he bowed and left.

And now Seonghwa was alone in the apartment. It was huge, and empty. Really quiet. He wondered why he’d bought such a big apartment if he was just gonna live in it alone.

Still, the place was awesome. The living room had the biggest TV Seonghwa had ever seen, completely flat and attached to the wall. He couldn’t find a single button on it, or a remote anywhere. There were a lot of sofas, soft and bouncy, and he jumped up and down on them. He was so tall he could almost touch the ceiling!

The kitchen was huge, and so clean and shiny Seonghwa’s mom would’ve cried. There were a lot of fancy silver appliances, stuff he had no idea how to use, and a lot of pots and pans. The fridge was filled with food. Gross food. All vegetables and weird stuff Seonghwa didn’t know, like health drinks and yucky supplements. There wasn’t even any soda! There was meat in the freezer, but Seonghwa didn’t know how to cook that. He didn’t know how to cook anything.

He looked around in the cupboards for something to eat. Thirty-year-old him was super weird, he didn’t have any breakfast cereal except the gross bran kind that tasted like cardboard. In the end Seonghwa just washed some fruit and ate it at the kitchen counter. He wanted milk too, but the carton in the fridge said it was almond milk, and he didn’t know how a nut made milk and he didn’t wanna know.

After breakfast he went back to the bedroom. Seonghwa had work, and he needed to get ready. The closet was humongous, as big as a room by itself, and for some time he just walked through it, staring at all the clothes. They were all in black, white or gray, suits like businessmen wore, some dark jeans and pretty pastel colored shirts way in the back. He was going to work, so Seonghwa picked a suit. There were ties too, but he hadn’t mastered how to tie them, so he left them all behind. Then he combed his hair properly, parted in the side and checked how he looked in the mirror.

“Pretty good,” said Seonghwa to himself.

He couldn’t believe it. He was handsome, and tall and rich. His life was perfect.

His friend Yeosang had said a driver was coming to pick him up, so Seonghwa waited for him, sitting on the bed until Yeosang called again. Around ten thirty his phone rang, but it wasn’t Yeosang. It was the driver.

“Sir, sorry to bother,” said the driver, as soon as Seonghwa answered. “I’m supposed to take you to work and we might be running a little late and I’m sorry but, um, where are you?”

“I’m coming,” said Seonghwa. He picked up the bag he guessed he took to work and headed towards the door. “Where are you?”

A little sigh of relief. “I’m in the garage.”

“Okay,” said Seonghwa. “Where in the garage?”

“In… the garage,” said the driver slowly, confused. “You know. Where your car is parked.”

“Okay so where is the garage?” asked Seonghwa. “Like, it’s in this building, right? Like, underground, or…?”

“Basement level 2,” said the driver. He sounded super confused now. “Sir, are you alright?”

“Fine, thank you,” said Seonghwa. He got in the elevator, pressed the B2 button. “Um, can you wait for me in front of the elevator?”

“Alright,” said the driver.

“Okay, thank you, bye,” said Seonghwa. He pulled the phone away from his ear and watched the screen light up. Then he pressed the red circle to end the call.

A moment later the elevator doors opened up with a soft ding, and in front of them was a man. He was tall, like Seonghwa, but he had a much nicer, kinder face. He was wearing a uniform too, different from Jongho. The driver.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” said the driver. “We’ll need to hurry.”

“That’s okay,” said Seonghwa. He followed the driver to the car, and when he saw it his jaw dropped.

It was super cool. Black, but a kind of shiny black. It was nothing like the old car Seonghwa’s parents drove, with the window you had to jiggle before you could roll it up, and the door that sometimes refused to close. It was much lower on the ground, and looked futuristic and super expensive.

“Is this my car?” asked Seonghwa, stunned.

“Sir?” The driver turned to him after opening one of the doors at the back.

“Like, do I own it?” asked Seonghwa as he climbed in. “Or is it yours?”

For some reason the driver suddenly started bowing, and saying quickly, “Sir, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you late, I promise I won’t do it again please don’t fire me I—”

“Stop,” said Seonghwa hurriedly, grabbing the man. “Why are you saying sorry?”

“Because…” The driver snuck a look at him. “Aren’t you angry?”

“No?” Seonghwa didn’t understand. Did he look angry? “I’m really sorry, can you please stop saying you’re sorry?”

The driver jumped up straight. “Yes, sir. We’ll set off right now.”

He went and climbed into the car before Seonghwa could say anything else. Seonghwa got into the car too.

It was super nice on the inside too. Seonghwa ran his hands over the shiny seats, poked at the buttons. He didn’t dare press any of them. They rode in silence a minute or two before Seonghwa remembered something.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The driver started, and then looked at Seonghwa in the rearview mirror. “Are… are you talking to me?”

“Yeah,” said Seonghwa. “Can you play one of Hongjoong’s songs?”

The driver frowned. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know that artist.”

“Are you sure?” asked Seonghwa. “He’s supposed to be a really big rapper.”

“I’m not a big hip-hop fan,” said the driver. He hesitated. “I didn’t know you were, sir.”

“He’s my best friend,” said Seonghwa proudly.

The driver didn’t say anything to that, just looked at Seonghwa through the rearview mirror again before looking back at the road.

The car was silent again, and Seonghwa didn’t like it. “Ahjusshi, what’s your name?”

The driver sputtered. “ _Ahjusshi_?”

“Sorry,” said Seonghwa quickly. He’d totally forgot he was the same age as the driver. “Sorry, I mean…”

“It’s fine,” said the driver in a kind of choked voice. “It’s Yunho.”

“Right, okay,” said Seonghwa. “Sorry I forgot, you know it was my birthday yesterday and I drank a lot.”

“Oh, it was? Happy birthday, sir,” said Yunho. “I mean, late birthday.”

“Thanks,” said Seonghwa. He frowned. “You didn’t know? I didn’t have a party yesterday?”

“Um, no,” said Yunho. He laughed, but it sounded nervous and fake. “You must’ve drunk a lot last night…”

“Yeah,” murmured Seonghwa. He didn’t have a party? No one even seemed to know it had been his birthday yesterday. He didn’t invite all his friends over for cake and to play games? A really scary thought came to mind, that maybe Seonghwa didn’t have any friends…

Seonghwa huffed. No way. He probably had a ton of friends, like that Yeosang guy who’d called. And Hongjoong. No matter what, Hongjoong was his best friend, and they were friends forever.

Hongjoong had come over the night before, and then he’d gone back to his own house. Seonghwa would have to figure out where that was and go visit him.

In a couple of minutes the car came to a tall skyscraper and then went down into the underground car parking. One of the spots was written reserved, and that’s where Yunho parked the car.

Yunho got out of the car and opened the door for Seonghwa. “Thank you,” said Seonghwa. For some reason Yunho looked surprised at that, and Seonghwa wondered for a moment if he’d said something wrong. But he couldn’t do anything about it so he just walked away, trying to look confident.

He got into the nearest elevator. He had no idea what floor he was supposed to go to, so he pressed the button on every single one. On the fifteenth floor, when the doors opened up, a man standing against the wall said, “You’re here,” and Seonghwa took a deep breath of relief and walked out.

“The meeting is starting in a few minutes,” said the man, who was really pretty and had really pretty golden hair. He was also walking really fast, and Seonghwa had to rush to keep up. Seonghwa just nodded along as he followed.

The man—Kang Yeosang, Seonghwa guessed—led him to a big boardroom, just like the ones in the dramas, with a long table and lots of chairs around it. There were other people there, men and women as old as or even older than Seonghwa, and some greeted him. He greeted them back, trying to remember he wasn’t a kid, he was an adult and he didn’t need to bow so deep.

The meeting started. Seonghwa was nervous and tried not to let it show. At first he tried to pay attention in case someone asked him something, but they talked about things way over his head, stuff like revenue and quarterly returns and customer retention rate. No one tried to talk to him, or even really looked at him, so Seonghwa relaxed a little and let his mind wander.

He wondered where everybody was. His mom and dad, his sisters. His sisters were probably married by now. Seungyeon always said she’d get married quick, and Seunghee had that boyfriend of hers she swore she’d marry in a couple of years. Maybe they even had kids. It was seventeen years in the future, they could have kids Seonghwa’s age by now… 

“Mr. Park?”

Seonghwa started. Oh, crap. That was him.

He tried to look confident as he sat straight. “Y—yes?”

“Do you have any suggestions as to what we could do?” asked the woman who’d called his name. 

Seonghwa froze. He had no idea what to say. But everyone was looking at him, and he was supposed to be a smart grown up adult and he had to say something.

So he thought of things he’d heard his parents say when talking about stuff at their companies and forced out, “D—downsizing the w—workforce?”

A horrible silence followed. Seonghwa was just about to chicken out and say he didn’t mean it when the lady who’d asked his opinion said, “Bold suggestion, Park. You believe we could reduce operating costs by laying off some of the staff?”

Seonghwa nodded. He had no idea.

“Not a bad suggestion,” another man said, this one a little less old. “It would take some time to implement but it would reduce costs before the next quarterly report.”

“It would be difficult for a lot of the employees, being laid off so suddenly,” said another woman quietly. “Not to mention the workload on the ones who remained.”

“Yes but think of the company!” said the last man.

“The company,” repeated Seonghwa in a murmur. The man said it in such a cool way, like a knight talking about his country. 

The rest of the meeting passed quickly, and no one asked Seonghwa any more questions. Some people did come up afterwards, to shake hands and compliment him for his suggestion, and he felt pretty good about that. When he could finally leave the room Yeosang was next to him, appearing like a ghost. 

“How did I do?” asked Seonghwa, trying not to sound nervous.

Yeosang gave him a cool and kind of curious look. “Would you like my honest opinion, sir?”

“Sir?” Seonghwa frowned. “You… you work for me too?”

“I’m your personal assistant, sir,” said Yeosang carefully.

“Right,” said Seonghwa, trying not to show how disappointed he was. Yeosang wasn’t his friend either. 

He told himself it was okay. He probably had a ton of other friends, people that didn’t work with him. And he always had Hongjoong anyway. 

They entered an office, a pretty nice one, with a long white desk and a plush chair behind it. People in this time must have really liked those floor-to-ceiling windows, because this room had one too. Yeosang closed the door and stood behind it, looking alert and ready for whatever Seonghwa asked from him.

“So, uh, what now?” asked Seonghwa. He caught Yeosang’s look and used his go-to excuse. “I had a lot to drink last night, since it was my birthday.”

“Oh, happy birthday,” said Yeosang coolly. “We don’t have much today, just finalizing some accounts, so you should be able to handle it.”

Seonghwa stopped. “You didn’t know it was my birthday yesterday?”

“I’m sorry, I did not,” said Yeosang. He hesitated. “Should I have a bottle of wine sent to your apartment?”

“What? No.” Seonghwa didn’t want wine. “Did… are you my _personal_ personal assistant? Like you handle all my stuff?”

“I would say so, yes,” said Yeosang.

“What did I do yesterday?” asked Seonghwa.

“You were at work,” said Yeosang. “You looked through the foreign account from Germany, made some final adjustments. Very thorough work, sir. Then once the day was done you left for home.”

“That’s… it?” asked Seonghwa.

Yeosang nodded.

Seonghwa couldn’t believe it. One of the best things about being an adult was being able to do whatever you wanted. And old him didn’t want a birthday party? Not even a party, anything at all, maybe go have burgers with his friends or… 

Or maybe Yeosang didn’t know. After all, why would Seonghwa tell his assistant he was going out for burgers? That made sense. That made more sense than Seonghwa not doing anything for his birthday. Hongjoong would kill him if he didn’t do anything. 

“Are you gonna stand there all day?” asked Seonghwa awkwardly when he saw Yeosang was still waiting by the door. 

Yeosang gave him a look, and Seonghwa curled away from it. Yeosang was just like those cold characters on TV, the ones who worked for the evil guys, and it scared Seonghwa a little. He was even pretty enough to be on TV. 

“I’m available if you need me,” said Yeosang, and then finally he left. 

When he was gone Seonghwa breathed a sigh of relief. And then he took out his phone. 

It was a lot different from the phones he was used to. A lot more futuristic, without a single button on top. You just pressed on the screen itself and it worked. Seonghwa took some time figuring out how it worked, what all the icons went to and how to go up and down lists. When he was a little more confident he knew how to use it he went to the list of contacts.

There were a lot of numbers and names he didn’t know. Seonghwa ignored all of them, scrolling all the way down to H.

Han Minhee, Han Jaehyun, Hong Wooshik…

No Hongjoong.

“Okay,” murmured Seonghwa to himself. “Maybe it’s _Kim_ Hongjoong…”

There were a lot more names with K. But no Kim Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa frowned and went all the way back to the top. Maybe he’d saved Hongjoong’s number under a nickname. He went through every contact one by one. No nicknames, just full names, sometimes titles like the driver. 

No Hongjoong.

“That can’t be right,” said Seonghwa aloud. How did he not have Hongjoong’s number? They were best friends.

He checked his recent calls. The driver, Kang Yeosang, Choi San, Kang Yeosang again, Park Jonghoon… 

Seonghwa stopped, suddenly remembering something. He opened his contacts again. He’d saved his parents’ numbers under Mom and Dad. His sisters were saved as Park Seungyeon and Park Seunghee. 

Was that a thing adults did? They saved their older sisters’ numbers under their names like that? The same way they saved their personal assistant and all these business people they worked with?

At around 2 pm Yeosang came to take him to lunch, and even though Seonghwa still felt uncomfortable around him he was so hungry he accepted gladly. They went to a restaurant nearby, a lot fancier than anything Seonghwa had been to before. Yeosang ordered off the menu without thinking for one extra moment. Seonghwa was afraid of looking dumb and just said he’d have the same.

The food was kind of icky. Definitely not what he’d have eaten if he’d had a choice, but it was too late now and Seonghwa’s parents had taught him not to waste food so he ate it. It was awkward, because Yeosang didn’t say anything and Seonghwa didn’t know if he should either, so they just ate in silence.

In the afternoon Seonghwa turned on the expensive computer sitting in his office. It was filled with programs he didn’t know how to work, all this financial stuff and spreadsheets and things like that, but it had internet. Seonghwa spent a couple of hours clicking around, finding out what had happened in the last seventeen years. A lot. There were all these gadgets he’d never seen, and people dressed so different, and none of the shows Seonghwa liked were still on air. It was like a whole new world.

Yeosang came in the middle with accounts or something he was supposed to check and correct, but Seonghwa had no idea how to do any of that, so he just left the folder sitting on his desk while he searched up how all his favorite dramas had ended. A lot of his favorite actors were still acting, even if all the bands he liked had stopped releasing music. 

“Who the heck is BTS?” muttered Seonghwa to himself. 

“Sir?”

Seonghwa started and found Yeosang standing in the doorway, looking at him. “Yeah?” he said, trying to look casual.

“You didn’t answer any of the emails I forwarded you,” said Yeosang. He was really good at cold looks, and he was putting a really impressive one on Seonghwa. “Have you finalized the Lee-Jang joint account?” He glanced at the untouched folder sitting on the desk.

“Um, sorry,” said Seonghwa. “Can… can you maybe do it for me?”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Yeosang said, “Of course.”

“Great,” said Seonghwa, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”

Yeosang looked at him weird, and for a moment Seonghwa worried he’d said the wrong thing, but then the man bowed his head slightly. He switched the lights on before he left.

Seonghwa spent a little longer finding out about 2020 and all the stuff that had happened since he’d been thirteen, until his stomach complained and told him he should eat something. He was surprised to see it was already past eight. 

Could he leave? His parents were usually done with work by eight, unless they were working overtime. Maybe things were different in 2020.

Carefully, Seonghwa opened the office door and stuck his head out. The room outside was pretty empty. Most of the people had already left.

“Leaving, sir?”

Seonghwa jumped and found Yeosang right by the door. Was the guy just waiting for him there? 

“Um, yeah,” he said. He hesitated. “Is that okay?”

Another weird look from Yeosang, but still cold. Seonghwa didn’t think the man could be anything except cold. 

“Certainly,” he said after too long. “I can see you’re unwell today. See you tomorrow and I hope you’ll feel better.”

The assistant bowed. Seonghwa bowed back, and then he ran for the elevator, not wanting to be around the man anymore. He was pretty, but Seonghwa didn’t like him much. 

He went down to the parking lot before he remembered he should probably call Yunho. Seonghwa was already taking out his sleek skinny phone when he saw the driver and the car nearby.

Yunho bowed and opened the back door. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening,” said Seonghwa. “Were you waiting for me? I’m sorry I’m late.”

The driver blinked at him, shocked. “No, sir, it was no issue, you weren’t late at all,” he said quickly. “I would never complain, I know how busy you are, there—there is no need to a—apologize—”

“Sorry,” said Seonghwa hurriedly, seeing how freaked out Yunho was. “Okay, let’s go. Okay?”

Yunho nodded, and Seonghwa climbed into the car. 

They rode without saying anything for some time. It was quiet inside the car, but there was a lot of traffic on the roads. Seonghwa groaned and collapsed on his seat. He was tired from sitting in the office chair all day, all he wanted to do was go home and eat and roll around in bed. 

He stopped. Eat? Eat what? His mom didn’t live with him, so she wouldn’t be there to cook him dinner. He didn’t have anything he could cook himself in his expensive apartment, not even any snacks. 

“Um, excuse me,” said Seonghwa, sitting up “Ahj—Yunho-ssi?”

Yunho gave him a confused look through the rearview mirror. “Sir?”

“I wanna go shopping,” said Seonghwa. “Can you take me to a supermarket or something?” 

“Of course,” said Yunho. 

They went to a huge supermarket Seonghwa had never been to before. Yunho parked the car in front, and then jumped out to open the door for Seonghwa. 

“Aren’t you coming with me?” asked Seonghwa, when he noticed Yunho was still standing by the car while Seonghwa was halfway to the supermarket doors.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dare,” said Yunho. 

“I don’t wanna go in there alone,” said Seonghwa, frowning. “Please come with me? Please?”

Yunho’s mouth dropped open, and hung like that a second before he snapped it shut. “I—of course, sir,” he said. “If—if you insist.” 

“Thanks,” said Seonghwa, smiling bright, and for a second Yunho looked even more surprised than before. 

The man tried to push Seonghwa’s cart for him, but Seonghwa felt weird about letting someone so much older than him do that, so he insisted and in the end Yunho gave in. It took a little wandering before Seonghwa found what he was looking for, but it was so worth it when he stood in front of the shelves lined with boxes.

Yunho didn’t say or do anything as Seonghwa scooped up all sorts of snacks and candy, any kind he could find. There were a lot of different types of sweets, stuff he couldn’t even imagine finding in the little mart him and Hongjoong visited near the school sometimes, and Seonghwa picked them all up. He realized Yunho was staring, and stopped and asked, “Do you want something?”

“No,” said Yunho, with a little surprised jump. “No, thank you, it’s—I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” asked Seonghwa. “I’m rich, I can get you all the ones you like.”

“I’m sure, sir,” said Yunho.

Seonghwa looked at him a while, and then he asked, “Do you like chocolate?”

“I… sure,” said Yunho uncertainly.

“Okay, we’ll get you this,” said Seonghwa, picking up a bar of chocolate and putting it into his cart. “And this. And this.” 

Yunho looked like he was about to say something, and then gave up.

Seonghwa remembered to buy cereal—the good kind—and milk. He also bought instant ramen, in case he felt like eating something spicy later. And then he took it to the counter and paid for it all with the shiny black card he’d used for his and Yeosang’s lunch. 

The girl at the counter was older than Seonghwa, maybe seventeen or eighteen, and she blushed and stammered when they came up to pay, glancing from him to Yunho and back again. Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. He was used to teenagers looking at him like he was a snot-nosed brat, not going all red in the face because of him.

For some reason Seonghwa suddenly thought of Hongjoong. How was he now? He’d always been pretty, teenagers were probably blushing because of him now too. 

“Yunho-ssi,” said Seonghwa when they were back in the car, “can you take me to Hongjoong’s house?” 

“Of course,” said Yunho. “What’s the address?”

“I don’t know,” said Seonghwa. “Don’t… you?” 

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ve never been there,” said Yunho. Seonghwa saw him hesitate. “Are you alright?” 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” said Seonghwa. He smiled just to show him he was really okay, but that just freaked Yunho out again. 

The rest of the ride was quiet as Seonghwa thought hard. His phone didn’t have Hongjoong’s number. His driver didn’t know where Hongjoong’s house was. He hadn't done anything for his birthday, and Hongjoong would never let that happen. 

Seonghwa was beginning to think him and Hongjoong weren’t friends after all. 

But that didn’t make any sense. Him and Hongjoong were best friends, and they promised they’d be friends forever. The whole point of being thirty was so that Seonghwa could do whatever he wanted with Hongjoong. 

He got out of the car when it was back parked in his building, first handing over all the chocolate and snacks he’d bought for Yunho. The man took them with surprised thanks. Seonghwa smiled at him, said goodbye, and then went back up to his apartment.

It was even quieter at night. Seonghwa still couldn’t find the remote for the TV, but he did find a set of speakers that connected magically with his phone, so he just played music through them. There was a computer in the room with the big desk, and a laptop too, which Seonghwa carried to his big bed and switched on. He ripped open the first packet of candy as he started looking up cool movies that came out and he’d missed.

He went through a couple he thought of checking out later before he got bored and gave up. What was the point of a good movie if there was no one to watch it with? 

If he couldn’t yell about it later with Hongjoong Seonghwa really didn’t care.

He tossed the empty packets in the trash before he climbed under the covers. It was okay, he told himself. So what if this thirty-year-old Seonghwa didn’t do anything for his birthday and wasn’t friends with Hongjoong? Seonghwa was sure when he woke up tomorrow morning he would be thirteen again, and everything would be back to normal. There was no way a wish on a shooting star would last forever, right? Seonghwa got to have fun for one day as a rich, tall, handsome adult, and then he could go back to his old life and his old house with his parents and his sisters and Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa closed his eyes and went to sleep, already imagining the life he was going back to. 


	3. A good man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa finds out more about his life as an adult, and it's not what he expected

Sharp buzzing dragged Seonghwa out of sleep. He reached out blindly with an arm, trying to slap his alarm clock off his bedside table and get it to shut up. All he hit was soft bed. That wasn’t right, his bed wasn’t that big, why couldn’t he reach his bedside table—

Seonghwa shot upright, wide awake. He wasn’t in his room. Not his real room, anyway.

Big, white, empty. It was thirty-year-old Seonghwa’s room.

He looked down at his hands, felt his face. Big, stiff, old. Thirty years old.

He was still in 2020.

“No,” cried Seonghwa, and he fell back in bed.

How was he still here? He was supposed to have gone back after he’d fallen asleep! How long would he have to be old until he finally got to go back to his life?

A horrible thought entered Seonghwa’s mind, that he’d never go back to his life, and he quickly pushed it away. 

He had work. If he was going to spend another day being thirty, he had to work. Seonghwa forced himself out of his stupidly big bed, making sure to turn off the alarm on his phone as he did. The rest of the house was empty this morning, no Jongho with his uniform or anyone else at all. It was just Seonghwa, and he was alone as he opened the cereal he’d bought the day before, alone as he ate, alone as he got ready for his job. Not for the first time Seonghwa wondered why the older him owned such a big place if he was just going to live in it all alone.

Like yesterday Yunho came to pick him up for work, and it was a few minutes of silence before Seonghwa remembered. “Hi,” he said, leaning forward. “Did you find any of Hongjoong’s songs?”

“I’m very sorry, sir, I did not,” said Yunho. He hesitated. “Are you sure he’s an artist?”

“I’m sure,” said Seonghwa at once. There was no way Hongjoong wasn’t a famous rapper, he said he would be one for sure. “Did you look properly?”

“I did but I probably didn’t do it right,” said Yunho quickly. “I’m really sorry for suggesting you were mistaken. I’m sure if I look harder I will find him, I searched last night and I even asked my husband, he’s a hip hop fan so I thought he’d know but he didn’t—”

“Wait, wait, stop,” said Seonghwa, cutting him off. “You have a husband?”

Yunho glanced at Seonghwa through the rearview mirror. He looked nervous. “Yes.”

“You’re married?” asked Seonghwa. “How old are you?” 

“I’m—I’m twenty-nine, sir,” said Yunho. 

Seonghwa frowned, nodding. He didn’t know why but it felt weird to even think about. Getting married was something old people did. Yunho wasn’t old, was he? 

It took him some time to realize Yunho _was_ old. Seonghwa was old too. It was okay to be married at twenty-nine. Seonghwa probably should’ve been married at thirty, actually.

It was super weird. Seonghwa had never thought about getting married, but that was because he’d been thirteen. Now he was an adult, and it felt weird that he wasn’t married. He was pretty sure his parents had been married by thirty.

Instead Seonghwa lived all alone in his big, empty apartment. 

“Yunho-ssi, can I ask you something kind of dumb and you have to promise not to laugh at me?” asked Seonghwa.

“Of course,” said Yunho, looking kind of surprised. 

“I’m… am I single?” Seonghwa tried to make the question as normal as possible.

“Uh…” Yunho hesitated. “Yes?”

“Oh.” Seonghwa didn’t know why he was so disappointed. Maybe because he’d figured out he didn’t have too many friends—at least enough to have a proper birthday party with—and he was hoping he had someone who cared he lived alone in such an empty space.

Hongjoong would’ve cared. Seonghwa still didn’t understand where Hongjoong was in this life.

Somehow Yunho picked up on how disappointed Seonghwa was because he hurriedly added, “There’s San.”

“San?” Seonghwa perked up. “He’s my… my boyfriend?”

“I guess,” said Yunho. “Kind of. Sure.”

“Sure,” repeated Seonghwa, sitting back in his seat. Having a boyfriend wasn’t that bad. He’d thought about dating before, and some of his classmates had boyfriends and girlfriends. Lots of adults did too. After all, no one said you had to get married, it was okay to just have a boyfriend.

Seonghwa wondered if Hongjoong had a boyfriend or girlfriend too.

Before Seonghwa went up to his work he bowed and smiled at Yunho. Yunho awkwardly smiled back. The place Seonghwa worked was just like it had been the day before, but there was no Yeosang waiting by the elevator to take him to a meeting. So Seonghwa just went to his office and sat behind the desk.

Literally seconds later there was a knock on the door and Seonghwa jumped. Before he could say anything the door opened and Yeosang walked in. 

“Good morning, sir,” the man said. “I’ve sent today’s schedule to your email, as well as the reports to finalize. Would you like to meet with the German investor today?”

“Hi, good morning,” said Seonghwa. “Um, not today. Maybe… maybe next week.” Hopefully he wouldn’t be around by next week.

“Alright, sir,” said Yeosang. “Anything else?”

“Uh…” Seonghwa didn’t know if this was okay, but he had to try. “Can you find someone for me?”

“Of course,” said Yeosang without hesitation. “Who are you looking for?”

“Someone named Kim Hongjoong,” said Seonghwa. 

Yeosang frowned. It was a very small frown, and it only lasted a second tops, but Seonghwa didn’t miss it. “Any other details?”

“He, uh, we went to the same middle school,” said Seonghwa. He wanted to say more, but he honestly didn’t know any more. Did they go to the same high school? How long had this old Seonghwa known him? Where did Hongjoong work, doing what? Seonghwa had no idea.

He knew nothing about his best friend.

“I’ll try my best to find him,” said Yeosang. He bowed smartly, and then turned and left.

And Seonghwa was alone again. He knew he was supposed to be working, but adult him had such a hard job and he didn’t know what to do with all these spreadsheets and numbers, and he didn’t wanna mess anything up. So he just sat at his desk and thought.

He wasn’t close to Hongjoong. He didn’t really seem to have many friends at all. Seonghwa took out his shiny phone and checked recent texts. They were mostly from Yeosang, all filled with work-related stuff, dry and formal. There were no birthday messages. No one had texted Seonghwa a happy birthday.

He switched over to recent calls. There were his calls from Yunho, Yeosang. But there was also a call from a Choi San, on the night of his birthday. 

Seonghwa breathed a sigh of relief. Right. Of course his boyfriend called to wish him happy birthday. Maybe they’d even gone out. That was why Seonghwa hadn’t had a party—he’d decided to go on a date with San instead. The male leads did that all the time in dramas and it was supposed to be romantic, even though Seonghwa really didn’t see what was so great about going on a date when you could spend a whole night with your friends having an awesome party. Older him was different, he guessed.

After way too many hours Yeosang came and they went to get lunch together. This time Seonghwa was a little bolder and ordered something he thought he would like. It was better than what he ate the day before, but not as good as fast food.

Somehow today was even more uncomfortable than yesterday. Yeosang didn’t talk, just like before, but he watched Seonghwa. He was still as cold as ever and Seonghwa had no idea what he was thinking. It was like sitting with an ice sculpture, but one that stared at you.

After a super awkward lunch Seonghwa returned to work. As he was walking into his office Yeosang stood by the door and said, totally plainly, “If there’s anything you’re not up to completing today, you can forward it to me, sir.”

Seonghwa turned to look at his savior, surprised. “Really?”

Yeosang nodded.

“Thank you so much,” said Seonghwa. “You really mean it?”

“It’s my job,” said Yeosang coolly.

As Seonghwa sat in his big black chair behind his desk a few minutes later, he decided maybe Yeosang wasn’t too bad. He’d already sent him the emails he’d gotten and now his inbox was all clean and he was happy (Seonghwa decided he hated emails). There wasn’t anything else to do for the rest of the day, so Seonghwa turned to the one friend he still had: the internet.

He clicked around on a few sites, not really paying attention. And then, bored and kind of desperate, Seonghwa opened the search engine and entered _kim hongjoong._

He didn’t expect to get anything. Seonghwa’s parents taught him that you weren’t supposed to post too much stuff on the internet, because there were all kinds of shady people who would steal your identity and your money in an instant, and you definitely shouldn’t use your real name. But something did pop up: a social media site Seonghwa was sure didn’t exist in his time. He clicked it, and there it was, Kim Hongjoong’s profile. It was more than Seonghwa had expected.

There were pictures.

It was Hongjoong, but older. He looked a lot like Seonghwa remembered, just a bit sharper in his face. He didn’t look old like Seonghwa. He actually looked a lot younger than Seonghwa, and if Seonghwa didn’t know better he’d never guess he was thirty. 

There wasn’t a lot of information. The website said Seonghwa had to be Hongjoong’s friend to see everything, which Seonghwa thought was really rude because he _was_ Hongjoong’s friend, no matter what some dumb site said. There were a couple of pictures, some lines that looked like song lyrics. Probably Hongjoong’s lyrics. He’d definitely become a famous rapper, but maybe under another name? Lots of artists used stage names. Maybe that’s why Yunho hadn’t been able to find him. 

Seonghwa scrolled through the profile as much as he could. It was Hongjoong. It was Hongjoong, and he was okay. Seonghwa had been secretly terrified something had happened to Hongjoong, seventeen years was a long time, and people got into accidents all the time… 

But Hongjoong was okay. And Yeosang would find him. The man was scary, and that was how you knew he did his job well. 

Seonghwa tried to while away the time in his office, but it was hard. He hated being cooped up in his boring office. In the afternoons he’d either be at a club meeting, or playing games with his friends. If his sisters were in a good mood they’d give him a little extra money, and he could go eat snacks with his friends. But now Seonghwa had to sit here, alone, all day with nothing to do. 

Being an adult sucked.

It didn’t help that Seonghwa felt awful. His stomach was mad at him, making him feel like he’d eaten too much and too little at the same time. He was starting to realize why his parents never just let him eat snacks and candy for dinner. He promised himself he’d never do it again. 

Around six he ate some of the candy he’d stashed in his coat pocket, but that wasn’t dinner so that was totally fine. 

Bored and uncomfortable, Seonghwa decided to take a nap. Surprisingly, he was able to fall asleep, maybe because he’d woken up way too early for his stupid job and he was that bored. He ended up sleeping way too long, because when he woke up his stomach was still mad at him, but this time in hunger. It was also late. Way too late. Like, almost ten at night late.

Seonghwa groaned as he got up and stretched. His entire body felt stiff and creaky, aching all over. He’d fallen asleep in all sorts of weird positions before, and it had never hurt as much as it did now.

Being an adult totally sucked.

The office was empty outside, everyone who worked in those horrible little cubicles already gone, and it looked like Seonghwa was the only person left on the whole floor.

Well, almost. Yeosang was there.

“Leaving, sir?” asked the man, a nice leather bag already packed and ready in his hand.

“I—yeah,” said Seonghwa. “What are you doing here? It’s really late.”

Yeosang frowned, just the tiniest bit. “I couldn’t leave without you,” he said. 

“Do you need someone to drop you home?” asked Seonghwa as they waited for the elevator. “I have a driver. I’m sure Yunho-ssi wouldn’t mind dropping you.” After all, it was really late. Yeosang shouldn’t go out alone.

“Thank you for the offer, but I will be fine,” said Yeosang.

“Um, okay,” said Seonghwa, realizing Yeosang probably had a car too. 

Yeosang got out on the ground floor, bowing before he left. Seonghwa bowed and then went down to the underground parking, where Yunho was waiting for him.

“I’m really sorry I’m so late,” said Seonghwa. “You must’ve been waiting ages.”

“Of course not, sir, I didn’t mind,” said Yunho quickly, bowing a thousand times. “It’s no trouble at all.”

They rode in silence. Seonghwa watched Yunho drive and thought about his life, because it seemed super cool. He drove a really nice car all day, and he got paid for it! That sounded a lot better than Seonghwa’s stupid office job.

When Seonghwa got off at his apartment building, he thanked Yunho and bowed. Yunho stuttered something back, and bowed too, and Seonghwa smiled before going upstairs.

He decided he liked the driver. He was a nice man, even if he was a little weird, getting all jumpy every time he even talked to Seonghwa. He wondered if him and Yunho were friends. Sure Yunho worked for him, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Yunho seemed pretty friendly.

Seonghwa walked up to the front door of his big, empty apartment, unlocked it, and got the biggest surprise of his life.

His big, empty apartment was not empty.

There was a man there, right in the kitchen. He had black hair, kind of long and curly, and when he spotted Seonghwa by the door he turned to face him and smiled. He was definitely older than Seonghwa, but looked younger than Seonghwa of 2020, and he was wearing a pretty pink apron.

It was the only thing he was wearing.

Seonghwa screamed.

The man jumped, and then smiled big and bright. “You’re late!” he said. “I made dinner. Unless you wanna have something else first?” He leaned against the counter with a weird look in his eyes, sticking his hips out.

“Who—who are you?” asked Seonghwa, trying not to panic. “What are you doing here?” A stranger was in his house. A stranger not wearing any clothes. Seonghwa was sure he was going to get murdered. 

The man pouted. “It’s Wednesday,” he said. “I always come Wednesdays. And what do you mean, who am I? That’s kind of mean, even for you.” He suddenly brightened. “Wait, are we roleplaying?” 

“We’re not doing anything,” said Seonghwa frantically. He really didn’t wanna look at this not-exactly-but-totally naked guy, but he also didn’t want to cover his eyes in case he tried anything. He stared at the wall directly behind the weird stranger. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I _was_ waiting for you,” said the man. “I started making dinner when I saw you were late. I can go heat it up now, or later.”

“How did you get in here?” asked Seonghwa.

The man rolled his eyes. “You gave me a key, remember? After that night you didn’t tell me you’d be late and I waited outside for two hours.” 

Seonghwa looked at him properly now. “Are… are you San?”

“Who else?” The man huffed. “Now do you want to eat first or what? Because I am freezing my ass off over here.” 

“I… I need to do something,” squeaked Seonghwa, and then he ran into his bedroom. 

As soon as he was alone and safe he jumped on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. Okay. Okay. So that was San. Seonghwa wasn’t going to be murdered. He was okay.

He glanced at the door. He really hoped San was wearing clothes out there. Seonghwa wasn’t a kid, and he wasn’t stupid. He knew what it meant when adults got naked with each other. But he didn’t want to _do it_ with San. He didn’t even know San! 

Seonghwa knew he should go out there and tell San that, and maybe San would go. But talking to San was awful, the way he looked at Seonghwa made him super uncomfortable, and Seonghwa didn’t know if he’d even be able to convince him to go. So he did what his parents had taught him to do if he ever got in trouble.

He called an adult.

“Sir?” said Yunho as soon as he picked up. “Do you want me back at your building?”

“No, I don’t know,” said Seonghwa. He chewed his lower lip. “Um, there’s a guy here. Can you tell him to go?”

“A guy?” Yunho sounded confused. “Like someone broke in?”

“No, he—it’s San,” said Seonghwa.

There was a pause over the line. “Okay,” said Yunho finally. “And you want me to… drive him home?”

“If you want to,” said Seonghwa. “Just please tell him to go.”

“Sir, he will leave if you tell him,” said Yunho, sounding super uncomfortable. 

“I don’t wanna talk to him, he freaks me out,” said Seonghwa. “Can you call him and tell him I told you to tell him to go?”

“I don’t have his number,” said Yunho, bewildered.

Seonghwa thought for a second. “Okay, wait.”

He opened the door, just a crack, and poked his head out. He could see San in the living room, thankfully now wearing clothes. Seonghwa took a deep breath and then went to him, holding the phone out in front of him like a shield. “It’s for you,” he said.

San side-eyed Seonghwa but took the phone, looking at him the entire time. “Yes, this is Choi San,” he said into it. 

San and Yunho had a whole conversation while Seonghwa waited nervously. San just hummed, and said ‘ah’ or ‘okay’, staring at Seonghwa the entire time. Seonghwa decided he was as scared of San as he was of Yeosang. He couldn’t figure out what they were thinking, but it didn’t ever seem like anything good.

“Okay, thank you,” said San, and then he ended the call and handed the phone back to Seonghwa.

“Sorry,” squeaked Seonghwa. 

“This is still one of my days, by the way,” said San. Now that he was all clothed Seonghwa could see he was actually pretty good-looking. “Since I came all the way out here I am not making up tonight. Also, I’ll need the money before the tenth. My landlord’s on my ass.”

“Money?” Seonghwa was confused.

“For March,” said San, already heading towards the door. Seonghwa followed. “I told you I needed to put down a deposit, so I’ll need cash this time.”

“I’m giving you money?” Seonghwa didn’t understand. “For what?”

“For my deposit,” said San as they reached the front door. 

“No, but… why?” Seonghwa was sure he was missing half of what was going on around him.

San laughed and turned around. “For my time and affections, daddy.” 

Seonghwa felt like he’d been punched. “I’m _paying you to date me_?”

“Aww, no, I wouldn’t call it dating,” said San, totally unbothered. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t call it dating either. See you Saturday.”

He leaned forward and kissed a stunned Seonghwa’s cheek, and then opened the front door and left.

Seonghwa was left standing in front of the open door, shocked. 

When Seonghwa woke up the next morning still thirty years old, he wasn’t even surprised, just tired.

It was only his third day being a grownup and he was already sick of it. His job was boring. He had no friends. He had to pay people to spend time with him.

 _Thirty, flirty, and thriving_ , Hongjoong had said. Well, Seonghwa was thirty. He didn’t know about the rest of it.

And where was Hongjoong? What happened that made him and Hongjoong not friends anymore?

All this was on Seonghwa’s mind as Yunho drove him to work. As they arrived at the tall, shiny building, Seonghwa finally said to Yunho, “I’m sorry for bothering you last night.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” said Yunho. He hesitated. “If—if I can ask, are you alright, sir?”

“Fine,” said Seonghwa. He smiled at Yunho, and Yunho gave an awkward half smile back.

The office was the same as it was yesterday, and the day before, and Seonghwa guessed it would be the exact same tomorrow too. Every day was the same, and every day sucked. 

Yeosang came to see Seonghwa in his office, and this time he didn’t bother telling him about the work he should be doing. Instead he said, “If you require anything, I am always ready.”

“Thank you,” said Seonghwa. 

The pretty man gave Seonghwa a look he couldn’t read, and then he left the room.

With nothing to do Seonghwa searched up Hongjoong’s social media profile again. He scrolled up and down the short page, looking at the same six or seven pictures of his face, reading the same song lyrics. Seonghwa knew it was dumb, but he was just miserable. 

The more he thought about it, the more the thing with San hurt him. His birthday had been on Monday and the only calls he’d gotten were from Yeosang and San. Seonghwa was supposed to have had a birthday dinner with San, he was supposed to have someone who liked him and wanted to be around him. But the only reason San even showed up to Seonghwa’s apartment was to get money. 

Literally two people had called Seonghwa on his birthday, and he was paying both of them. 

He took out his phone and, for no reason, started scrolling through the contacts. He went down, and then up and down again, when a name caught his eye and he called without a second thought.

He waited a long time, until he was sure she wouldn’t pick up, when all of a sudden she did. Seonghwa sat up straight in his chair. “Noona?” 

“Seonghwa,” said Seunghee. “Did something happen?”

“No, I just… I just wanted to talk to you,” said Seonghwa. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” said Seunghee. “And you?”

She sounded so cold. Not rude or mean, but like she was talking to someone she didn’t know. “Good,” said Seonghwa, trying to sound warm and like everything was normal. “Um, you know, Monday was the third.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right, you’re thirty now,” said Seunghee. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said Seonghwa. He hesitated. “You didn’t call or anything.”

“I thought you said we shouldn’t,” said Seunghee shortly. “Mom interrupted you in the middle of a meeting last year and you went off at her until she was almost in tears, so we didn’t take the risk this time.”

Seonghwa couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was mean to his _mom_? 

“That’s not—that can’t be right,” he said helplessly. “I—what? Really?”

“She probably sent something in the mail, knowing her,” said Seunghee, ignoring Seonghwa. “So you might get a package this week. I’m sure your assistant will take care of it.”

“Noona,” said Seonghwa. “I—what happened? We’re not close?” 

“I need to go,” said Seunghee, like she didn’t even hear him. “Thanks for the call. We’ll catch up later. Bye, Seonghwa.”

By the time Seonghwa realized what was going on and said his dumb little bye, Seunghee had already ended the call. He stared at his bright phone screen, trying to make sense of what just happened.

He had lunch with Yeosang like before. Seonghwa was busy thinking through most of it, about his mom and Seunghee and Hongjoong. He didn’t want to think older him was a bad person, but he didn’t see any other explanation. He had no friends, no boyfriend. Seunghee sounded like she hated him, and if she was mad then knowing Seungyeon she was a thousand times more mad. And if what she said was right, Seonghwa deserved it. He’d made his mom almost cry. 

No wonder Hongjoong didn’t wanna be his friend.

 _No_ , Seonghwa told himself as he returned to his office after lunch. _I couldn’t have been that bad. Maybe Seunghee-noona was exaggerating. Maybe my friends were all just busy, and Hongjoong moved away like in the movies, but I’ll find him again and everything will be the way it was._

Seonghwa had to believe that.

Time moved even slower after lunch. Seonghwa tried to distract himself with the internet, but every time he opened the browser he remembered Hongjoong and his online profile, then he remembered Seunghee, and his mom, and all of it. He thought of calling his mom, but what could he say? 

By four thirty Seonghwa couldn’t stand being in his stupid empty office anymore. He opened the door and stuck his head out. He was surprised to find most of the cubicles outside empty. He got out of his office, and heard some people talking further in the building. He followed the sound until he reached a room with some tables and chairs, a fridge and microwave and a coffee maker too on a long counter. There were some adults inside, too busy talking to notice him standing there.

“Fucking heartless,” one of the women was saying. “Laying off so many employees? Who even does that, especially so suddenly? For a damn quarterly report?”

“It’s okay,” said another woman. “I talked to Mr. Han, and he’s with me. We won’t let it happen.”

She looked familiar, and it took Seonghwa a second before he remembered where he knew her from. She’d been in that boring meeting that first day. 

“Still, how could he even suggest it?” said the first woman. “How awful.”

“I’m not surprised,” said a man, leaning against the counter next to her. “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. I think it’s a psychological thing.”

“I feel so bad for his assistant,” said another man. “Did you hear about what happened in January?”

Everyone leaned in closer to the man talking, and Seonghwa took a step forward too automatically.

“His assistant came in late,” said the man. “Like, literally two minutes late. Apparently the dick chewed him out and said if he ever did it again he was fired, no excuses.”

“That’s horrible,” said the first woman. “The poor thing works overtime all the time, and most weekends. How could he fire him for being late once?”

“That’s not even the worst thing,” said the man who’d told the story. “The only reason he even was late was because his boyfriend got hurt that morning and he needed to take him to the hospital. Jaemin heard him crying on the phone later in the bathroom.”

“God, that Park is literally the worst person,” said the other man. He turned and leaned over to reach something, and looked Seonghwa right in the face. His eyes got huge and he poked at the man next to him, and then all four of the adults looked at Seonghwa and went quiet.

It was super quiet and uncomfortable. “Um, good afternoon,” said Seonghwa awkwardly.

“G—good afternoon,” said one of the men, even more awkwardly. No one said anything else.

Seonghwa shifted on his heels uncomfortably. “I was just taking a walk,” he said. “I, um, thought maybe…”

“Park Seonghwa.” The woman he knew from the meeting walked up to him, face serious. “I don’t know how much you heard, but I just want to tell you upfront I stand by what I said. I am not your assistant and you will not push me around or mistreat anyone in my department, and I won’t let you fire anyone for your damn record. Good afternoon.” And then she stomped right past him and out of the room. 

Leaving Seonghwa standing awkwardly where he was. All the other adults refused to look at him, some of them pretending to be busy with their phones, others just staring at coffee mugs. Seonghwa slowly backed out of the room, and as soon as he thought they couldn’t see him anymore he ran back to his office.

They’d been talking about _him_. It was so obvious. Seonghwa was the horrible person they’d been talking about, the guy they called heartless. No one liked him. Not his family, not his colleagues, not his friends who didn’t even exist because Seonghwa was an awful person and had no friends.

There was a knock on the door, and then Yeosang walked in. “I just saw you return to your office,” he said. “I apologize. Did you need anything, sir?”

“No, I…” Seonghwa stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” said Yeosang.

Seonghwa hesitated, and then asked in a small voice, “Is your boyfriend okay?”

For a moment Yeosang looked too surprised to answer. Then he went back to normal, all cool and collected, and said, “He’s fine, sir. Thank you for asking.”

“I heard he had to go to the hospital,” said Seonghwa. “So I thought, you know, I hope he’s okay.”

“He is,” said Yeosang. “It was only a minor injury.”

“Okay,” said Seonghwa, relieved. “That’s good.”

Yeosang bowed his head slightly. “Is that all?”

Seonghwa was about to say yes, when he noticed something. Like always Yeosang stood with his hands in front of him, all proper and polite. There was a silver band on the ring finger of his left hand.

“You’re married?” Seonghwa burst out.

Yeosang started in surprise. “No, sir,” he said. “Engaged.”

“Oh.” Seonghwa didn’t know what to say. Yeosang was engaged. The guy he’d asked about wasn’t Yeosang’s boyfriend, he was his fiancé now. Yeosang acted all icy but he couldn’t be all cold, because he was getting married. 

While Seonghwa needed to pay San to make him hang out with him three times a week. 

“That’s great,” said Seonghwa, forcing himself to smile. “I’m… I’m sorry, what’s his name? I’m really sorry but I—I forgot.”

Yeosang furrowed his brows. “You never asked me his name before.”

And there it was. The final confirmation that Seonghwa was the absolute worst person in the world. 

“Sir, are you alright?” asked Yeosang. He was frowning, and he looked almost worried.

“I’m okay,” said Seonghwa, a total lie. “Thanks. You—you can go. Thank you.”

Yeosang gave Seonghwa a curious look, but he left the office. 

As soon as he was gone and Seonghwa was alone, again, he collapsed facedown on his expensive, shiny desk, and tried very hard not to cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /clears throat/  
>  ** _ATEEZ COMEBACK_**


	4. Everybody needs somebody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa can't take this adult life anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter over the course of literal weeks. I hope you'll like it, and thank you for all your patience ♡

Seonghwa woke up in a big, white bed in a big, empty room, and he wanted to cry. 

But he couldn’t. He was an adult, and adults didn’t cry. Especially if you were thirty, you definitely shouldn’t cry if you’re thirty, and not just because you didn’t wanna go to work.

But Seonghwa wasn’t thirty. He was thirteen and he didn’t wanna go to work and he didn’t wanna live this life. He just wanted to lie back down in this bed that was way too big for him and cry.

He didn’t bother getting up to turn off the alarm on his shiny phone. After all, who cared? Who even cared if Seonghwa didn’t go to work? It wasn’t like school, where his friends would want to hang out with him when he got there, and his mom would force him to get up and go before he was too late. 

His mom. She probably hated this old Seonghwa too. Was there anyone who didn’t?

He was awful, and he was stuck here. He was all alone. He didn’t even have Hongjoong.

Somehow that hurt more than anything else. Hongjoong was supposed to be Seonghwa’s best friend forever. But even he’d left Seonghwa, and Seonghwa probably deserved it. He was the worst. What was the point of getting up and going to work anyway? No one liked him there. He didn’t like anyone there. 

Seonghwa just wanted to go home. His real home, with his parents and his sisters, and to his school with all his classmates and friends and Hongjoong—

“Sir?”

Seonghwa sat up and turned to the door. It was Jongho, standing in the doorway and looking at him with wide eyes.

“Jongho,” said Seonghwa, and then burst into tears.

He didn’t know why seeing the man made him cry. Maybe it was knowing the closest thing he had to a friend was the guy who came and cleaned his stupid house in the morning. All Seonghwa knew was that he was tired, and he missed all the people he loved, and he hated this place.

Something rested on Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa raised his head and saw Jongho standing there, looking super uncomfortable, patting him on the shoulder awkwardly. “There, there,” he said, not looking Seonghwa in the eye. “Are you okay, sir?”

“Don’t call me that,” said Seonghwa. He wiped his face with both hands. “I’m not.”

“Ah, yes,” said Jongho awkwardly. “I heard your alarm ring, and I was worried…” He cleared his throat and took a step backwards. “I’ll go then.”

“No!” Seonghwa grabbed Jongho’s shirt. “Stay.”

Jongho didn’t look comfortable, but he stayed. He leaned over and turned off the alarm, and then stood there all awkward.

“You were worried about me?” asked Seonghwa. At least someone cared.

“Well, yeah,” said Jongho. “I heard the alarm and I thought, I dunno, what if you died in your sleep during the night or something…” He shuffled. “But since you’re okay I guess I can go…” 

“Don’t go,” said Seonghwa. “If you go I have nobody, and I’m all alone in this huge apartment again.” He screwed his face up as he tried not to cry again. “How did I become like this? Why did I grow up into such a horrible adult?”

“Sir, do you need me to call someone?” asked Jongho.

“There’s no one to call!” cried Seonghwa. “No one likes me!”

“Sir…” Jongho started inching away.

“I just wanna go home,” said Seonghwa. 

“You are home,” said Jongho.

“No I’m not!” said Seonghwa. “I’m in stupid thirty-year-old me’s home! Not _my_ home!”

“Please calm down,” said Jongho, already backing towards the door. “I’m just going to call the hospital, just wait a moment—”

“I am not sick!” said Seonghwa. “I’m thirteen!”

Jongho stopped. “What?”

Seonghwa told him. He told him about everything: his birthday, the shooting star, the wish he’d made. How he’d woken up like _this_. He told him about everything he’d had to deal with since waking up as a grownup. 

“Everyone hates me and it’s so unfair because I didn’t do anything,” whined Seonghwa. “I just wanted a birthday party! I wanted to be a grownup so I could have friends and hang out with Hongjoong whenever I wanted, but instead I have this!”

Jongho didn’t say anything. Seonghwa looked up at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, and the man jumped when he realized he was supposed to talk.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Okay. Um. I see. You wished on a star—”

“A shooting star,” interrupted Seonghwa. That bit was important.

“A shooting star,” repeated Jongho. “Okay. And you woke up thirty years old. But you’re actually thirteen.”

Seonghwa nodded.

“Okay,” said Jongho. He said that a lot. “You’re a kid, and…” He took a deep breath, and said, “I should really call a doctor. A psychiatrist or something.”

“I’m not crazy,” said Seonghwa, upset. 

“Of course not,” said Jongho quickly. “I’m sorry. Just—what should I do?”

“I don’t know,” said Seonghwa. “You’re the adult here!”

“Right,” said Jongho. 

He checked his watch, and bit his lip. And then he looked at Seonghwa long and hard. 

Finally, after ages, he sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll stay, okay? I’ll make you breakfast, how about that? Just don’t break down again.”

Seonghwa nodded, already feeling better. He wouldn’t have to be alone in the apartment at least. 

Jongho made him breakfast, just like he said he would. He knew how to cook, and made a proper breakfast with eggs and toast and everything, and Seonghwa ate happily. For the first time since he’d woken up thirty he was feeling good. 

Afterwards Jongho turned on the TV, and Seonghwa sat crosslegged on his super clean white couch and went through the channels. He didn’t recognize any of the shows on, but he finally settled on a family drama that looked easy enough to follow. He watched mindlessly, while Jongho paced in the empty space beside the living room that joined up to the kitchen island. 

The doorbell rang.

Jongho whipped his head around to look at Seonghwa, stopping in his tracks. “Who’s that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Seonghwa. “I don’t have any friends or anyone who’d come see me.”

Jongho gave him another long look, and then he went to the front door. 

Seonghwa heard him open the door, and then he heard him talking with someone, but he couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying. He did hear that the other person was a man too. Seonghwa curled up on the couch. What if it was Yeosang? What if he was here to drag Seonghwa to work? 

And then all of a sudden someone started yelling, shouting “Mr. Park! Sir! Are you in there?”

Seonghwa jumped up and ran to the front door. “Yunho-ssi!”

As soon as he saw him coming Jongho moved away from the door, and Yunho burst into the apartment. “Sir!” he said, panting. “You’re okay! This—this random guy refused to let me in!” And then he glared at Jongho.

“Excuse me, you’re the random guy here,” snapped Jongho. “How was I supposed to know you knew Mr. Park?”

“I told you I was his driver!”

“He is not going to work today, so you can go.”

“So says you.” Yunho was a lot taller than Jongho, and took advantage of it, looking down at him. He turned to Seonghwa. “Sir, you weren’t answering your phone, so I got concerned and took the initiative to come upstairs. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have but I had to check you were alright.” He hesitated. “Are you alright?”

“You were worried about me?” Seonghwa’s eyes went big.

“Oh, great, now you set him off,” said Jongho, groaning. “He’s going to start crying again.”

“I am not!” said Seonghwa, frowning. “I’m not a baby!”

Yunho looked at him, and then at Jongho, and then back to Seonghwa and back to Jongho. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What the hell is going on?”

Jongho sighed. “Get in the kitchen, I’ll explain.”

Seonghwa went back to his show as Jongho and Yunho stood in the kitchen and talked. The kitchen wasn’t a room like in Seonghwa’s house, just a section of wall separated from the rest of the big living room by the long kitchen island. Seonghwa could glance over and see the two adults talking, Jongho leaning against the counter while Yunho paced from one end to the other. Carefully he lowered the TV volume and crept closer to them.

“... I’m telling you, it happened to my cousin’s boyfriend,” Jongho was saying. “He studied too hard for the entrance exam, and then one day he woke up thinking he was six years old.”

“That makes no sense,” said Yunho, still pacing. “He was fine yesterday.”

“Was he?” asked Jongho. “Because around two or three days ago he asked me what year it was.”

Yunho stopped walking. “Really?”

“Really,” said Jongho. “Just like poor Sunwoo. He lost twelve years of his memories just from the stress.” He sighed and shook his head. “He never did get into KAIST.”

“Mr. Park’s job is pretty stressful,” said Yunho thoughtfully. He looked at Jongho. “What happened to your boyfriend’s somebody? Did he get his memories back?”

“Eventually,” said Jongho. “They all came back while he slept one night. My cousin was pretty happy, she was tired of babysitting.” He barked out a laugh that didn’t sound too happy. 

“So what should we do?” asked Yunho. “He can’t keep missing work!”

“Yeah and I can’t keep babysitting him,” said Jongho. “We should convince him to go to a hospital. You can drive him there—”

“I’m not going to a hospital,” said Seonghwa loudly.

Both Jongho and Yunho jumped. Yunho looked away, embarrassed, but Jongho sighed and said, “Sir, I’m saying this for your own sake. Professional help will help your memories return quicker.”

“I didn’t lose my memories,” said Seonghwa. “I told you, I wished on a shooting star and ended up in the future.”

Jongho and Yunho exchanged a look. “Sir,” started Yunho, and then he suddenly stopped and raised his head like a big puppy. “Do you hear that?”

“What?” Seonghwa looked around. 

“Your phone’s ringing,” said Yunho. 

In a group all three of them went to Seonghwa’s bedroom. The sound was muffled since he had dropped it onto his bed, but Seonghwa’s phone was ringing. 

It was Yeosang.

Seonghwa squeaked. “One of you answer it,” he said, holding his phone out like a bomb. “It’s my scary assistant.”

“I don’t know him,” said Yunho, panicking, backing away. “You answer it!”

“Am I the only adult here?” Jongho sighed and took the phone from Seonghwa. He glanced at the screen and picked up the call, saying, “Hello?”

Seonghwa shifted nervously as Jongho listened a moment, and then said, “I’m a friend of Mr. P—Seonghwa-hyung.” He cringed and looked at Seonghwa, worried, but Seonghwa nodded eagerly. He was doing great. “He’s feeling sick and can’t go to work today.”

That was good. That was really good, Jongho was good at talking on the phone and Seonghwa was really glad he had him.

And then Jongho’s eyes went huge and he exploded, “No, please don’t! I promise I know him!”

“What’s he saying?” whispered Yunho. “He doesn’t believe you?”

Jongho was too busy freaking out to reply to him. “You don’t need to call the police,” he said quickly. “I _am_ his friend, I swear—” He squeaked. “Hey, you don’t need to do that—”

Seonghwa grabbed the phone from him. “Yeosang-ssi,” he said. “It’s—it’s me. Seonghwa.”

There was a brief silence, and then: “Sir?”

“That was my—my friend,” said Seonghwa, making eye contact with Jongho, who still looked freaked out. “I’m fine. I just can’t go to work today. I… I have a headache.”

“I see,” said Yeosang slowly. He didn’t sound like he believed him, and it made Seonghwa kind of freak out too. “I apologize for my behavior. Should I send your documents to you via email then?”

“Um…” Seonghwa really wanted to say no.

“Sir, are you sure you’re alright?” asked Yeosang. “You’ve been behaving… odd.”

“I’m fine,” said Seonghwa. He stopped. “Wait, you were worried about me?”

Jongho buried his face in his hands and groaned. Yunho looked from Seonghwa to Jongho and back, confused.

“Did something happen?” asked Yeosang, not answering Seonghwa’s question.

“Nothing,” said Seonghwa, the biggest lie of his entire life. 

There was another silence, and then Yeosang said again, “I see.”

“Thank you,” said Seonghwa, relieved. “Then I’ll, um, see you later. But not today. Thank you so much for calling and asking about me. Thank you. Bye.”

He was just about to press the red circle that ended the call when he heard Yeosang say, “I found him.”

Seonghwa slammed the phone against his ear again. “You did? You found Hongjoong?”

“Yes,” said Yeosang. He paused. “I will drop by later with all the details, if that’s alright with you.”

“It’s fine,” said Seonghwa immediately. “It’s great. Thank you so much, Yeosang-ssi.”

“I will see you then, sir,” said Yeosang, super formal like he always was, and then he ended the call.

“Well?” asked Jongho, as soon as Seonghwa put the phone down. “Is he gonna call the cops? He threatened to call the cops!”

“I don’t think so,” said Seonghwa.

Jongho gave a big sigh of relief. “I told him I was your friend and he didn’t believe me,” he said. “He said you didn’t have any friends. Can you believe that guy? What is wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him,” said Seonghwa. He swallowed. “He’s right. I don’t have any friends.”

“That’s not true,” said Yunho quickly. “I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”

“I really don’t,” said Seonghwa. “I’m horrible. You remember that guy you said was my boyfriend? He’s not! He only comes to hang out because I pay him.”

Yunho and Jongho exchanged a look. “Sir...”

“Stop calling me that,” said Seonghwa. “My name is Seonghwa.”

“S—Seonghwa,” said Yunho. He looked like it physically hurt him to say it. “Please let’s calm down. The car’s downstairs, I can drive you to the hospital—”

“I am not going to the hospital!” cried Seonghwa. “I am not crazy!”

“Of course not,” said Yunho quickly. “But you need help s—Seonghwa.”

“I need to get back to my time,” said Seonghwa. “I need—I need to find a shooting star or something, and I am not going to the hospital.”

Yunho and Jongho shared another look. A much longer look than before, like they were talking to each other without talking.

And then finally Yunho sighed and said, “Okay.”

Seonghwa burst into a smile. “Thank you.” 

“Please stop smiling at me,” said Yunho. “This day has been weird enough already, and it’s not even lunch time.”

Yunho stayed. He looked super nervous the entire time, never sitting down and glancing at Seonghwa every couple of seconds, but he stayed. Seonghwa was still grateful for it, especially when Jongho had to leave after a couple of hours.

“I have a class,” he said, already heading towards the front door. “Can’t miss it.”

“Don’t go,” said Yunho, following. They had parked Seonghwa in front of the TV again, but he could still hear everything. “You can’t leave me alone with him!”

“Sorry, I have a class,” said Jongho, but he didn’t sound that sorry. “Life of a grad student and all that. It’s okay, you look like you’re good with kids.”

“He is not a kid, he is Mr. Park,” hissed Yunho. 

“Well he thinks he’s a kid,” said Jongho. “Just humor him a little.”

“What if he remembers all this later? He is so gonna fire me,” groaned Yunho. 

“He’s gonna fire us anyway,” said Jongho. “No way he’ll let us keep our jobs after we saw him like this.”

Yunho groaned again, and then he sighed. “Sure,” he said. “Go before you’re late, kid. I’ll call you if I need any help.”

“Please don’t,” said Jongho. And then Seonghwa heard the front door open and close, and Jongho was gone.

Yunho came back into the living room a minute later. “So...” he said awkwardly.

“I’m hungry,” said Seonghwa. “Can you make me lunch?”

“I, uh, sure,” said Yunho. “Let me just...” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and wandered over to the kitchen as he called someone. Seonghwa listened hard, just to make sure Yunho wasn’t calling a hospital or something, but it didn’t sound like it. 

“I can’t make it for lunch, babe, I’m sorry,” Yunho was saying. “Mr. Park wants me to eat with him. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you when I get home, okay?” He listened, hummed. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.” He hummed again, and then said, “Love you too.”

Seonghwa just sat where he was. He didn’t have anyone like that. Someone who wanted to be around him, wanted to eat with him and spend time with him. Not his parents, or his sisters, or Hongjoong. Nobody.

But it was okay, Seonghwa told himself as Yunho made him rice and curry for lunch. He would find a way to get back to his time, and then he’d have his family and friends back and everybody wouldn’t hate him.

He’d never let himself into this thirty year old Park Seonghwa. That was a promise.

“Ahjussi,” said Seonghwa, as him and Yunho sat opposite each other at the table and ate.

Yunho took a really deep breath. “Yes, s—Seonghwa?”

“I decided I’m gonna be friends with you when I get back to the present,” said Seonghwa. “What middle school did you go to?”

“I grew up in Gwangju,” said Yunho.

“Oh.” Seonghwa frowned. “That’s kinda far.” He brightened and said, “Maybe I could ask my dad to drive me there.”

Yunho stared at him, and then he said, “Yeah, sure.”

After lunch Yunho let Seonghwa watch TV again, but this time he didn’t pace around all antsy. He sat on the other sofa and watched with him, sometimes making comments about whatever show they were watching or telling Seonghwa about the baseball league rankings.

It was cool. Seonghwa didn’t have an older brother, and Yunho was fun and cool when he wasn’t freaking out. Sure he was old and already married like Seonghwa’s parents, but that was okay. Seonghwa was okay with an even older big brother, especially one that drove a nice car as his job and made Seonghwa lunch. 

The doorbell rang, and Seonghwa jumped. He wondered who would come see him when he suddenly remembered Yeosang and what he’d said on the phone.

Seonghwa didn’t really wanna talk to the scary assistant, but Yeosang had found Hongjoong. That was the only thing on Seonghwa’s mind as he walked over to the front door and opened it.

Yeosang looked as pretty and scary as ever. “Good afternoon,” he said, bowing. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, okay,” said Seonghwa. He moved away from the door so Yeosang could enter. “Um, you said you knew where Hongjoong was, so...”

Yeosang turned to look at him, and Seonghwa shut up. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Where is your... friend, if I may ask?”

It took Seonghwa a moment to realize who Yeosang was talking about. “Oh, he had a class,” he said. “He had to go.” Seonghwa thought it was weird, not having to wake up early to go to class, but he knew university was weird like that.

It looked like Yeosang was going to say something, but then he walked into the living room and saw Yunho and his mouth shut. Yunho wasn’t sitting anymore, standing between the couches instead, and he quickly bowed.

“Sir, this is your driver,” said Yeosang carefully, keeping his eyes on Yunho the entire time. “Did something happen to your car?”

“No,” said Seonghwa, confused. Why would something happen to his car?

“I’m sorry, can we talk?” Yunho asked Yeosang. “It’s kind of urgent.”

Yeosang looked at him, and then at Seonghwa. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Seonghwa, when he realized Yeosang was asking his permission. “Okay, I’ll go.”

He left to go to his bedroom, but he kept the door open a bit and stood right behind it. His parents told him it was rude to listen in on adults’ conversations, but Seonghwa was pretty sure they were gonna talk about him and it was okay to listen to someone when they were talking about you, wasn’t it?

“He had some sort of mental break or something,” said Yunho. “You need to convince him to see a doctor.”

Yeosang’s voice was too quiet for Seonghwa to hear properly, but he did hear Yunho say, “Because he’s scared of you. He’ll listen to you.”

This time Seonghwa heard what Yeosang said. “Why would he be scared of me?” he asked. “I’m his assistant.”

“Sir,” said Yunho slowly and carefully. “Mr. Park thinks he’s thirteen years old.”

Silence followed. And then Yeosang said something else Seonghwa couldn’t catch.

“I mean he thinks he’s thirteen years old!” said Yunho loudly. “He thinks he wished on a star or something and woke up the day after his thirtieth birthday—”

“April third,” said Yeosang. 

“Yeah, I think,” said Yunho, like it didn’t matter. “He lost like seventeen years of his memory, we have to do something! I can drive him to see a doctor but you need to convince him to actually talk to them—”

That was as much as Seonghwa could stand. He came out of his room and announced loudly, “I am not crazy and I am not going to a hospital.”

Yunho squeaked. “Sir—”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” said Seonghwa. “My name is Seonghwa.”

At that Yunho turned to Yeosang helplessly. Yeosang just stared at Seonghwa. His eyes were as sharp and as icy as ever, and all the staring made Seonghwa squirm. Yunho was right. Seonghwa _was_ scared of Yeosang.

And then, finally, Yeosang asked, “You really think you’re thirteen?”

Seonghwa gulped and nodded.

“I see,” said Yeosang. He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair. “Seonghwa-ya, please sit down.”

Seonghwa walked over to the couch and sat down. 

“ _Seonghwa-ya_?” Yunho looked stunned.

Yeosang gave him a flat look. “I am not calling a thirteen-year-old sir.”

“You can’t believe him!” cried Yunho in disbelief.

Yeosang ignored him and went and sat right next to Seonghwa. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did you have lunch?”

He sounded so nice and gentle. Seonghwa blinked at him, almost too surprised to reply, before he stammered out, “I—I did. Yunho-ssi cooked for us.”

“That’s great,” said Yeosang with a really sweet smile. “You’re thirteen now and already a teenager, so I’ll ask you: do you want me to treat you like a grownup or like a kid? It’s up to you.”

Before, Seonghwa would’ve said grownup without hesitation. He _was_ a teenager, and that wasn’t the same as being a kid. Teenagers got to smoke and drink and do all the grownup things.

But Seonghwa had been treated like a grownup over the last couple of days, and he decided he didn’t like it much. “Like a kid, please,” he said in a small voice.

Yeosang smiled. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry, what the hell?” burst out Yunho. He looked super uncomfortable. “What are you doing?”

“I’m talking to Seonghwa,” said Yeosang calmly. He turned back to Seonghwa and asked, “When did you eat? Do you want a snack?”

“That’s—” Yunho pulled at his hair while Seonghwa shook his head no. “What?”

“Yunho-ssi, let me have a word with you in private,” said Yeosang, getting to his feet. He walked off without even waiting to see if Yunho would follow him. Of course, Yunho did.

Seonghwa barely needed to eavesdrop to hear what they were saying. Yeosang talked quietly but Yunho was loud, and really close to freaking out. 

“What do you mean, _humor him_?” he cried. “We need to get him to see a doctor!”

Yeosang said something again, and Yunho stopped waving his arms around. “Me and Jongho,” he said. “That’s the cleaning guy or somebody. Housekeeper, I guess. Nice kid.”

Oh, Yeosang didn’t look happy with that. He muttered something, his pretty face sour.

“I won’t tell anyone,” said Yunho quickly. “And if we talk to Jongho he probably won’t either.”

Seonghwa stopped paying attention after that. They weren’t going to take him to a hospital, that was good enough for him. He wasn’t sick. He didn’t need a doctor, he needed a shooting star so that he could get back home.

Back to his real house, with his family and his sisters and Hongjoong.

When the adults came back Yeosang had a fruit bar with him, which he offered to Seonghwa. “Normally I wouldn’t support a kid your age having so much sugar,” he said while Seonghwa ate, “but I think since this is such a weird situation we can let it go.”

“Thank you,” said Seonghwa.

Yeosang smiled kindly. “It’s no problem.”

Yunho watched the whole thing with big eyes. “I didn’t know you were so—so—” He couldn’t finish.

“My fiancé’s brother is around that age,” said Yeosang. He turned back to Seonghwa and said, “I have to get back to work now. I talked with your Yunho-hyung, he’ll watch you for the rest of the afternoon—”

“Wait,” burst out Seonghwa. He felt bad for interrupting, but he had to. “What about Hongjoong?”

Yeosang frowned. “I think you should rest.”

“I need to see Hongjoong,” said Seonghwa. “You said you found him. Let’s go see him, right now.”

“Seonghwa—”

“I have to talk to Hongjoong,” said Seonghwa, jumping to his feet. “He’s my best friend, I have to talk to him!”

“Sit down,” said Yeosang, and he sounded so much like Seonghwa’s mom when she was mad that Seonghwa sat down immediately. The man looked at him, a long, long time, and then sighed. “It’s Friday afternoon, he’ll probably be at work,” he said finally.

“Then tomorrow,” said Seonghwa at once. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

Yeosang gave Seonghwa another long look, but this time Seonghwa tried his hardest not to squirm. He wasn’t giving in. He had to see Hongjoong.

In the end Yeosang sighed again. “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow.”

Seonghwa cheered and clapped his hands. Yunho let out a disturbed sound and groaned. 

“Yunho-ssi, you only need to watch him until dinner,” said Yeosang, getting up. “Seonghwa-ya, Yunho-hyung will take care of you today so be good and listen to him, okay?”

Seonghwa nodded, smiling brightly. He was going to see Hongjoong tomorrow—he’d listen well and do whatever they wanted today.

Yeosang talked a little more with Yunho by the front door, and Seonghwa didn’t bother spying. He was already getting what he wanted.

When Yunho came back to the living room he looked just as uncomfortable as ever. “Well,” he said slowly. “What do you want to do?”

Seonghwa shrugged.

Yunho looked down at Seonghwa sitting politely on the couch, and sighed heavily. “Let’s go for a drive,” he said.

They got in Seonghwa’s fancy black car. Now that Seonghwa knew he didn’t have to go to work he could enjoy riding in it much more. He was still in this stupid body, but things were going alright. Yeosang would take care of his boring work stuff, and tomorrow Seonghwa would see his best friend. Everything would be okay. 

So Seonghwa leaned back and watched the streets of Seoul glide by. Maybe because it was mid afternoon there wasn’t much traffic, and he could just relax and enjoy the ride. They passed by a huge mall, really tall and glittering with a front that was made totally of glass, and Seonghwa watched it go openmouthed. His family lived on the outskirts of the city, and they didn’t usually go into the city center. Everything looked futuristic, huge video billboards everywhere, everyone walking around with those phones that had no buttons. Someone even had a little flying robot with them!

“What’s that?” asked Seonghwa, pointing at the flying robot. It was kind of like a helicopter, but with four flying blades at each corner.

Yunho looked at him through the rearview mirror. “That’s just a drone,” he said. 

“Wow,” breathed out Seonghwa. He turned big shiny eyes on Yunho. “Can we get one? Please, please, please?”

“You—you can get one if you want, sir,” said Yunho. 

Seonghwa’s eyes went big when he realized he _could_. He had money! “Let’s get a drone,” he said, bouncing in his seat. “Let’s get one right now! Where do we get one?”

“I’m sure you could find one in a tech store,” said Yunho. He hesitated. “Did you bring your card, s—Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa deflated. “No,” he mumbled.

“Let’s—let’s do something else then,” said Yunho. “What do you want to do?”

Seonghwa thought for a moment, until he finally knew where he wanted to go. “Amusement park!” he said. “I wanna ride a rollercoaster. I was never tall enough for the scary one.” 

“Alright, the—the amusement park it is,” said Yunho. He pressed on the screen on the car’s dashboard, and a map popped up. 

“I don’t have any money though,” said Seonghwa, frowning. “Is it okay for you to pay for me, ahjusshi?”

“It’s fine,” said Yunho, voice strained. “And please stop calling me that. You can call me hyung.”

“But you’re so much older than me, ahjusshi,” said Seonghwa.

“Please,” said Yunho, and he sounded like he really meant it, so Seonghwa decided he’d call him hyung from now on. It made him feel kind of weird calling someone double his age hyung, but he kind of liked it too.

They went to a park Seonghwa had never been to before. It was huge, and all the rides were tall and looked fast. Seonghwa wondered if maybe he should’ve asked to go somewhere less scary.

But Yunho was really nice and let Seonghwa choose which rides he wanted to go on, and never tried to make him go on any of the especially scary ones. He bought him snacks and all sorts of good food too. He looked a little awkward the entire time, but Seonghwa was having too much fun to really be bothered. He played games and his old body turned out to be strong and good at aiming, and he won lots of prizes. Seonghwa picked one he’d give to Hongjoong when he’d see him the next day. 

Sometime after sunset, when it was properly dark and getting to around the time Seonghwa’s parents would want him home, Yunho suggested leaving. “It’s nearing dinnertime,” he said. “Yeosang-ssi said he’d come by.”

He did. The blond man arrived at the apartment about an hour after Seonghwa and Yunho, with a warm smile and lots of bags. The bags were filled with all sorts of good food—steaming rice, delicious side dishes, all sorts of extra things to be heated up and eaten later. He even had some muffins and other things for Seonghwa’s breakfast.

“This is so good!” cried Seonghwa, as soon as he’d swallowed. “Did you cook all this?”

“No, the person I live with made all this,” said Yeosang with a warm smile. “Eat up, there’s more than enough.”

He looked so nice, not scary at all. Seonghwa decided he liked Yeosang after all. He did find Hongjoong for him. 

“So when do we go see Hongjoong tomorrow?” asked Seonghwa. “Early in the morning? He’s not good at waking up early.”

Yunho and Yeosang exchanged looks. “Are you sure you want to go see him?” asked Yeosang. “Maybe you should wait until you’re more used to this life.”

“I have to see Hongjoong tomorrow no matter what,” said Seonghwa. 

“Maybe next week,” suggested Yunho. “Y’know, we have lots of time.”

“I’m going to see Hongjoong tomorrow,” said Seonghwa indignantly. “I thought I was your boss! Don’t you have to listen to me?”

Yunho shut up and looked away, but Yeosang wasn’t moved. “My boss is not thirteen years old,” he said flatly. “Any more rude language and you’re going to bed without dessert, young man.”

Seonghwa shut his mouth.

“Holy shit,” breathed out Yunho. “He actually listened to you. I thought he was gonna fire you right here.”

“I wouldn’t fire him, he’s really nice and helped me a lot,” said Seonghwa. 

But Yunho looked as shaken as ever. “This is messed up,” he said, and then kept on eating. 

Yeosang did give Seonghwa dessert, a whole mini tart piled with strawberries and syrup. It was really good. He even had him drink a glass of milk with it.

“Yunho-ssi will pick you up in the morning,” said Yeosang before he and Yunho left. “Make sure you’ve eaten and dressed by then.”

Seonghwa nodded, and then bowed politely, like he was taught to do by his parents. Yunho hurried to return the bow, but Yeosang only nodded. And then the two adults were gone.

The apartment was empty again, but for the first time Seonghwa didn’t mind. As he went to bed, he was smiling.

Things were finally going okay.

Yunho arrived around ten the next morning. Like Yeosang had told him to be, Seonghwa was all dressed and ready. He’d found a shirt that was a pretty sky blue, and picked a pair of pants that looked the least businesslike. Yunho smiled nervously, and then the two of them went down to the car parking.

Seonghwa was surprised to see Yeosang was there, waiting in his nice car. He bowed and then climbed in to sit next to him in the backseat.

As Yunho drove through Seoul’s busy streets, Yeosang said, “I think it would be better if you don’t tell Hongjoong about… everything.”

“But he’s my best friend,” said Seonghwa, frowning.

“He was, seventeen years ago,” said Yeosang patiently. “He’ll be shocked enough to see you. I told him I wanted to discuss a business contract with him.”

“Business?” Seonghwa didn’t understand. “I thought Hongjoong was a famous rapper.”

Yeosang didn’t say anything.

They went to a side of Seoul very far from Seonghwa’s big apartment, and his shiny office building. The buildings here were older, kind of falling apart in places. Seonghwa saw broken signs over tiny shops, walls that hadn’t been painted in ages. It was definitely not what he’d call fancy.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a small apartment building. It didn’t stretch up to the sky like Seonghwa’s, only standing a few floors tall. Yeosang climbed out of the car first and Seonghwa scrambled to follow.

“Yunho-ssi will wait with the car,” said Yeosang. “I’ll accompany you. Just in case.”

Seonghwa looked up at the old building. The window on the second floor was broken, and in some places he could see the bricks where the white on top had fallen off. “Is this it?” he asked. It didn’t look like the kind of place a famous rapper lived. 

Yeosang didn’t answer, just walked into the building. Seonghwa followed.

There was no security guard or reception desk. There wasn’t even an elevator. Seonghwa followed Yeosang up to the third floor and to a door where the number had fallen off.

Seonghwa’s gut twisted, but he didn’t stop Yeosang when he pressed the doorbell. What if Hongjoong didn’t live here? He said he’d be a famous rapper, and Seonghwa thought famous rappers and celebrities lived in places like Gangnam, with huge fences and swimming pools.

There was a sound behind the door, like a soft click and a snap, and then it swung open. 

Standing there, right in the doorway, was Hongjoong.

He looked different from Seonghwa’s memories, and different from the pictures on that social media site too. His hair was silver and kind of long, the ends of it falling into his eyes, and he was dressed in this big multicolored shirt. But it was Hongjoong. It was definitely Hongjoong.

Seonghwa rushed forward and grabbed him in a hug.

Hongjoong was smaller than him, and he fit neatly in his arms. But he only got a few seconds before Hongjoong shoved him off, hard. 

“What the fuck?” he demanded. “Who the hell do you think you are? Get out of here before I—” 

He stopped, and narrowed his eyes at Seonghwa.

“Hongjoong,” said Seonghwa helplessly.

Hongjoong stared at him, until his eyes suddenly went wide in recognition. “Seonghwa?”


	5. His best friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa finally meets Hongjoong again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been a hot minute since i updated this. Thank you for your patience and i hope you'll like this chapter!

Hongjoong’s apartment wasn’t that nice. It definitely wasn’t as nice as Seonghwa’s, which had a living room that looked like it was bigger than Hongjoong’s entire apartment. It was messy and cramped too, not because Hongjoong had a lot of stuff, but because he just didn’t have things or space to put it in. His living room had one sofa and two chairs and a box-like thing that wasn’t supposed to be a table but was being used as one. This was what Hongjoong put three cups of coffee on while he sat in one of the chairs, looking awkward. 

“Sorry, this is just so weird,” said Hongjoong. “I really didn’t expect to see you. Seonghwa? Park Seonghwa?”

Sitting on the old sofa, Seonghwa nodded. 

“Damn, it’s been a while, huh?” Hongjoong shook his head and laughed. “Like, what, fifteen years?”

Seonghwa counted backwards from thirty. Him and Hongjoong had stopped being friends when they were fifteen.

He really wanted to ask Hongjoong what happened, why they weren’t friends and why Seonghwa had grown up into someone so cold and mean, but he couldn’t do that without looking weird. So instead he said, “Yeah, a long time.”

Hongjoong just laughed again. He looked too surprised to really talk. Yeosang stood nearby, watching but not saying anything. He was pretending like he wasn’t listening in, but Seonghwa knew he was on high alert in case Seonghwa said something he wasn’t supposed to say. 

“I missed you,” said Seonghwa. He saw Hongjoong’s eyes go big, and quickly added, “I mean, like, it’s nice to see you again. After so long.”

“Yeah, it’s—it’s an experience,” said Hongjoong. He shook his head one more time, trying to snap out of his surprised daze, and finally clapped his hands together once. “Right, so what did you want to talk about in person?”

“Huh?” Seonghwa was lost. What was he supposed to say?

“I could’ve sent you all the songs you needed,” said Hongjoong. “I have the raw files too, if you need them, but I’d prefer not to hand them over without signing something first.”

Seonghwa was just as clueless as before, but Yeosang came to his rescue. “Mr. Park just wanted to talk about your musical vision and commitments,” he said. “We don’t recommend producers for contracts without first confirming they are a good fit for our company atmosphere and vision.”

Seonghwa looked up at him, stunned. He didn’t know they worked for a music company! He thought they did boring business things. 

“I see,” said Hongjoong. “If you have any questions, I’m happy to answer.”

Seonghwa had a lot of questions, but he couldn’t ask any of them. He tried to find one it would make sense to ask. “What kind of songs do you make?” he asked.

“We received samples of your work, but we want to hear it in your own words,” said Yeosang smoothly.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Hongjoong, looking almost relieved.

He started talking about his songs and music. He looked a lot more comfortable now, using all these music-related words Seonghwa didn’t know. He looked like the Kim Hongjoong Seonghwa knew, his best friend that always tried to smile even when they did bad on a test, that studied hard but still went out to the park whenever Seonghwa asked, that always bought an extra strawberry milk because he knew Seonghwa usually forgot his money at home. 

He was older, but he was still Hongjoong. It made Seonghwa feel a million times better already. 

“Sir?”

Seonghwa snapped out of his thoughts to find Yeosang looking down at him. “Huh?” 

“Do you have any other questions, sir?” asked Yeosang in a way that told Seonghwa it would be better if he didn’t. 

“Um…” Seonghwa thought hard. He didn’t want to leave Hongjoong already. “What—what do you do? Except make music?”

Hongjoong frowned. “You mean… my hobbies?”

“Everything,” said Seonghwa. He wanted to know how different this Hongjoong was from the Hongjoong he knew.

“That’s kind of weird,” said Hongjoong, glancing at Yeosang. “I was made to believe this was a business conversation.”

“It is,” said Seonghwa quickly. 

“Really? Because it kind of feels you just set this up as an excuse to track me down,” said Hongjoong. 

“It totally is not,” said Seonghwa, except that was a lie. “I just—Yeosang-ssi said I should come along…”

He trailed off, because he wasn’t good at lying and he didn’t want to make things worse. Hongjoong peered at him, and then at Yeosang. Yeosang’s face was completely blank, not showing anything at all. Seonghwa wished he could do that too.

“I would prefer if next time you didn’t insist on a house call,” said Hongjoong finally.

“Yeah, of course,” said Seonghwa. He would’ve agreed to anything as long as he could see Hongjoong again. “Thanks. For—for seeing us.”

“Of course,” said Hongjoong. “I would love to join your company.”

“It’s not that fun,” said Seonghwa. “It’s actually pretty boring, you just sit in an office every day—”

“Sir,” said Yeosang, cutting him off. “If that’s all? I’m sure Kim Hongjoong-ssi has his own business to get to.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Seonghwa, getting up. Hongjoong got to his feet too. “I’ll, um, go now then?” He couldn’t stop sounding hopeful. Maybe Hongjoong would want him to stay, talk for some time about not business stuff.

But Hongjoong just smiled politely and nodded.

“We’ll be in touch,” said Yeosang, while Seonghwa followed him to the front door disappointed. “I’ll let you know within a fortnight if you’ll be signed. Thank you for meeting us at such an awkward time. Mr. Park’s schedule is quite busy.”

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, who quickly tried to look normal. “Wow, you really made it in life,” he said.

“Not—not really,” said Seonghwa.

“No, it’s cool, you’re a success,” said Hongjoong. 

He was smiling but he didn’t look that happy. Seonghwa had never seen Hongjoong smile like that before, kind of forced and empty in the eyes. It was just wrong.

“Can I have your number?” blurted out Seonghwa.

Hongjoong’s eyebrows went up into his bangs.

“You don’t have to give it if you don’t wanna,” said Seonghwa quickly. “I just thought, y’know, if you ever wanted to—to talk or catch up…” He trailed off, awkward.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” said Hongjoong. He flashed a smile. “Give me your phone a sec.”

He entered his number into Seonghwa’s phone while Yeosang stood nearby, watching them with disapproval. Seonghwa did his best to ignore him. Yeosang could make as many faces as he wanted, Seonghwa wasn’t gonna back down. 

When he was done entering the number, Hongjoong handed the phone back to Seonghwa, smiling tightly and saying, “We’ll see each other again soon, I hope.”

“I hope,” said Seonghwa, and he really meant it.

They said goodbye, all formal and proper, and then Seonghwa and Yeosang went down the stairs and back to where Yunho had the car parked nearby.

“How was it?” asked Yunho as Seonghwa climbed in. “Everything went okay?”

“Fine,” said Seonghwa distractedly.

Hongjoong hadn’t looked that happy to see him. Seonghwa had expected him to be surprised, since for him it had probably been years since they’d seen each other, but even after the surprise had worn off Hongjoong didn’t look that excited. He just wanted to talk about joining Seonghwa’s company. Which was another thing—

“Why did you tell Hongjoong we went to see him for a business thing?” asked Seonghwa. 

From where he was sitting at the other end of the car, tapping away at his fancy phone, Yeosang answered, “He might not have agreed otherwise.”

That made sense, but Seonghwa still didn’t like it. “You could’ve just said I wanted to see him,” he said. “He would’ve said yes.”

Yeosang put down his phone to look Seonghwa in the eyes. “Can you guarantee that? This was his first time seeing you in fifteen years, and he didn’t look particularly enthusiastic.”

Seonghwa squirmed. He didn’t know what to say. Yeosang wasn’t wrong. 

They were quiet for some time, and then finally Yeosang sighed. “I’m sorry, Seonghwa-ya, but I think it would be better if you gave up on this friendship,” he said.

“But we’re best friends,” said Seonghwa.

“You were, seventeen years ago,” said Yeosang. 

Seonghwa turned to look out the window. He didn’t wanna talk to Yeosang anymore. It was impossible to beat him. 

“I will forward his songs to a friend of mine working at a record label,” said Yeosang. Seonghwa glanced at him and saw he was busy on his phone again. “That should be enough. If he is good, he’ll win his place.”

“Then we don’t work for a music company?” asked Seonghwa. “You lied to him about that too?”

“How else would I explain why we wanted to meet him?” asked Yeosang distractedly. 

Seonghwa stared at Yeosang, waiting to see if he’d look up, but he didn’t. So Seonghwa went right back to staring out the window. 

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Yunho drove Seonghwa back to his building. It looked especially fancy and expensive after he’d been inside Hongjoong’s tiny, cramped home in his old building. Yeosang got out of the car before it went down to the underground parking.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said. “Make sure you’re not late. Mr. Park never is.”

Seonghwa knew he’d have to get back to work eventually, but it still sucked to hear. He nodded, deflated. His mood was already down after that awkward meeting with Hongjoong. 

Yeosang peered at him, and then nodded curtly before turning and walking away. 

When Yunho had parked the car in its usual spot, he jumped out to open the door for Seonghwa. “Will you need the car any time later today?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” said Seonghwa. 

Yunho hesitated, and then said, “I’m sorry things didn’t turn out as you hoped.”

He sounded like he meant it, and it made Seonghwa feel a lot better. “Thanks,” he said. “And thank you for driving us today.”

“It’s my job,” said Yunho with a little tilt of his head.

Seonghwa’s apartment was as empty and as quiet as ever. He changed and showered and then he sat in his big white bed and stared at his phone.

He had Hongjoong’s number in there. He could call Hongjoong any time he wanted. Yeosang said he should give up on being friends with him again, but who was Yeosang to tell Seonghwa what to do? He wasn’t Seonghwa’s dad. He was just Seonghwa’s assistant. Seonghwa should be giving _him_ orders.

“That’s right,” said Seonghwa to himself. He didn’t have to listen to Yeosang. He could call and be friends with Hongjoong again in no time.

He decided not to call too soon. Hongjoong had been pretty surprised to see Seonghwa again, if Seonghwa called too soon he might freak him out even more. So Seonghwa tried to get it out of his mind and watched TV for some time, before he ate the food Yeosang had left him for lunch. It was good. After lunch Seonghwa spent some time online, trying to find out as much as he could about the future in case Hongjoong wanted to talk about it, and then he took a nap. By the time he woke up the sun was setting and Seonghwa decided it was enough waiting. 

He was going to call Hongjoong.

He practiced his words aloud as he found the contact and pressed call, and then again in his head as he heard the ringing tone. He hoped Hongjoong picked up. What if Hongjoong didn’t pick up? What if he was busy, or he didn’t wanna talk, or—

“Hello, this is Kim Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa almost dropped the phone. “Yes, hi, good evening,” he said. He cleared his throat. “It’s me. Park Seonghwa.”

“Oh, Seonghwa,” said Hongjoong, sounding surprised. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Do you need anything?”

“No, it’s nothing serious,” said Seonghwa. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to talk or something? Catch up, I guess?” 

He waited nervously. He really didn’t want Hongjoong to say no. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Hongjoong said he didn’t want to talk to him.

“Uh, okay, sure,” said Hongjoong. “When are you free?”

Seonghwa celebrated silently. “Any time,” he said eagerly. “Right now? If you can. Or not, if you can’t. Whenever you’re free.”

“Okay,” said Hongjoong. He sounded surprised and maybe a little confused, but he didn’t backtrack, and that was all Seonghwa needed. “I’m not doing anything right now. You’re sure?”

“Yes,” said Seonghwa, bouncing with excitement. This was going great! “Where do you want to meet?”

Hongjoong gave the name of what sounded like a restaurant. Seonghwa carefully wrote it on a notepad, making sure he spelled it right.

“Okay, thanks,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa ended the call, ready to burst with happiness. He knew things would go well, but this was even better than he’d expected. Hongjoong had just been surprised in the morning. He did want to be friends with Seonghwa again!

He got dressed, and then searched up the name of the restaurant on his phone. He’d figured out you could get directions to places the last time he’d played around on it, and it was really useful. Seonghwa thought of calling Yunho, but decided to get a cab instead. He didn’t want to bother him after already telling him he wouldn’t need the car.

The restaurant was pretty nice. Not as good as the one Seonghwa had lunch at with Yeosang, but pretty good, a lot like the restaurants his parents sometimes took him and his sisters out for dinner to. Seonghwa felt kind of nervous for some reason as he walked in. He looked around until, right in the corner, he saw a spot of silver hair at a table in the corner.

Hongjoong. He caught sight of Seonghwa and smiled. Just like that, Seonghwa’s queasiness disappeared, and he walked over happily.

“Sorry if I’m late,” he said. He sat at the small table, opposite Hongjoong. “I live kind of far.”

“It’s cool, it’s an unplanned meet up anyway,” said Hongjoong. 

He looked Seonghwa up and down, like he was sizing him up, and Seonghwa squirmed in his seat. Did he look dumb? Maybe he shouldn’t have combed his hair back. 

“So,” said Hongjoong finally, “this is pretty unexpected.”

“Yeah,” said Seonghwa. He smiled sheepishly. “I was just kind of surprised to see you. After so long.”

Hongjoong laughed. “Not as surprised as me, I bet,” he said. “I was all ready to beat your ass before I realized who you were. Was the hug really necessary?”

Seonghwa blushed. Right, he’d done that. Super embarrassing. “I was just so surprised,” he said. “I—I felt like I was thirteen again.” 

“Yeah, looking at you really takes me back,” said Hongjoong. He chuckled and shook his head. “We were dumb kids.”

“I don’t think we were _that_ dumb,” said Seonghwa, insulted. “You were definitely dumber than me.”

Hongjoong laughed. “Sure seems like it,” he said. “So you’re some corporate big shot now, huh?”

“Um, not really,” said Seonghwa. He felt uncomfortable talking about his job, and he hoped Hongjoong wouldn’t ask any more about it.

“It’s okay, you can brag,” said Hongjoong, grinning. “I saw your car outside. That must’ve cost more than my entire life savings. What’s the model?”

Seonghwa shook his head. He didn’t know.

Thankfully Hongjoong didn’t ask any more about it. Instead he said, “So you wanted to catch up. What have you been up to for the past fifteen years?”

But Seonghwa didn’t know that either. So instead he said, “It’s not that interesting. We really haven’t seen each other for fifteen years?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” said Hongjoong. “Feels like longer, doesn’t it?”

“Feels like last week,” murmured Seonghwa. He realized Hongjoong was giving him a funny look, so in a louder voice he said, “I don’t really remember how we stopped being friends.”

Hongjoong tilted his head, staring at Seonghwa the entire time. Seonghwa squirmed even more. He didn’t like that look at all. He couldn’t tell what Hongjoong was thinking, but it couldn’t be anything good.

And then the look broke and Hongjoong chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?” he said. “I mean, I’m the one who’d remember, right?”

Oh, Seonghwa really didn’t like that. He had a bad feeling he’d been just as awful to Hongjoong as he’d been to everyone in his life as a grownup. But how was that possible? If that was fifteen years ago then he’d been fifteen when it happened. That was just two years after Seonghwa wished on the shooting star!

“So you do remember,” he said in a small voice.

“Yeah, I do,” said Hongjoong. “We were kids, y’know. You remember things like that. It really felt like the worst thing I’d ever experience back then.” He laughed again, but he didn’t look happy at all. 

Seonghwa chewed his bottom lip. He wanted to ask what happened, but it looked like Hongjoong didn’t wanna talk about it. 

They ordered. The food looked good, a lot better than the stuff at the fancy place he went to with Yeosang. Seonghwa felt a little uncomfortable thinking about the pretty assistant. Seonghwa was a good kid and usually did whatever adults told him to do. But this was about Hongjoong, and Seonghwa wouldn’t listen and be good this time. 

Besides, he was thirty. What was Yeosang going to do? Take away his Nintendo? 

So Seonghwa ordered something nice and ate. Hongjoong ordered alcohol too, but Seonghwa was scared of getting drunk so he just got a soda. Hongjoong got a lot more relaxed after the first few glasses of soju, and even more relaxed when he started talking about music. 

Older Hongjoong knew a lot about music. Younger Hongjoong knew a lot too, but this one talked about musical motifs and thematic stylings and stuff that flew right over Seonghwa’s head. Seonghwa nodded, rapt. When he talked about music Hongjoong looked so vibrant and happy and full of life, just like Seonghwa remembered him.

“Sorry, I should shut up now,” said Hongjoong with a grin. “How are things with you? Are you married?”

“No,” said Seonghwa, suddenly embarrassed. “A—are you?”

“Nope, never got into relationships and shit,” said Hongjoong, relaxed. “I was too busy trying to get into the industry.”

Seonghwa nodded. If Hongjoong was single too it couldn’t be that bad. “Thirty, flirty, and thriving, right?” He tried a smile.

“I’m twenty-nine, actually, but close enough,” said Hongjoong with a grin. “Where’d that come from anyway?”

“You said that to me,” said Seonghwa. “On my thirteenth birthday.”

“Did I? I don’t really remember,” said Hongjoong. The grin changed a little, looking more fake than before. “I’m surprised you do. I thought you couldn’t remember all that?”

“I just remember that bit,” said Seonghwa. He bit his lower lip as he thought. He had to find out what happened, and Hongjoong would know. 

“Why did you—”

“Hongjoong—”

They both stopped. “Sorry,” said Seonghwa. “You can go first.”

“I just wanted to know,” said Hongjoong. He leaned back in his chair and he looked so cool, so grown up. “Why did you suddenly want to catch up?”

“No reason,” said Seonghwa. “We saw each other all of a sudden, I just thought it would be nice…”

“So you had no idea it was me you were going to see this morning?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Even though your ice prince assistant called me by name?”

“Well…” Seonghwa shifted. He was so bad at lying. “I kind of guessed…”

“I see,” said Hongjoong.

He didn’t say anything after that, which was somehow worse than if he’d tried to squeeze the truth out. Seonghwa almost wished Yeosang was there. He would’ve been able to make stuff up.

“And what were you going to say?”

Seonghwa started. “Huh?”

“You were about to say something,” said Hongjoong. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” said Seonghwa. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s cool, you can say it,” said Hongjoong with a smile. He poured out another glass of soju and downed it like it was water. “We’re seeing each other after ages. Might as well, right?”

Seonghwa swallowed. _Might as well._ “Why did we stop being friends?” he asked. 

A frown fell over Hongjoong’s face. “You really don’t remember?”

Seonghwa shook his head. 

Hongjoong stared at him, like he was trying to catch him lying, and then he laughed. “Shit, okay,” he said. “You really don’t.”

“Sorry,” said Seonghwa in a small voice.

“No, it’s good, I think,” said Hongjoong, still grinning. “It was ages ago, and not that big a deal.”

Except it was a big deal to Seonghwa. He ignored how hearing that upset him, and said, “Could you please tell me?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Hongjoong, still grinning. “You didn’t invite me to your thirteenth birthday party.”

Seonghwa’s mouth fell open. _No way._

“You really don’t remember,” said Hongjoong, laughing again. “Little me was super devastated, I hope you know. Like, I thought that was the end of the world.”

“No,” said Seonghwa, still too stunned to think properly. “No, why would I—why did I do that? You were my best friend!”

“No idea,” said Hongjoong. “I asked you after and you never really gave me a reason. You just said you didn’t want to see me.”

Hongjoong looked perfectly fine, but Seonghwa felt like his entire world had been thrown upside-down. Why had he done that? Hongjoong was his best friend, he’d never do that—

“And then after that?” asked Seonghwa. “I never said sorry or anything?”

“Nope,” said Hongjoong. He looked like he found it funny that Seonghwa apparently couldn’t remember. “I was so pissed. And then you stopped hanging out with me.” He snorted and shook his head. “I was such a pathetic kid. I used to run after you trying to get you to be friends with me again. Oh, my god, I even asked your mom to get you to play with me again.” He drank another shot of soju. 

Seonghwa couldn’t say anything. How was this real? How did this all really happen?

“When I turned thirteen I invited you to my party, remember?” said Hongjoong. “You showed up just to tell me to stop bothering you.”

“No way,” said Seonghwa. “I wouldn’t, I’d never—”

He stopped when Hongjoong raised a eyebrow at him before chuckling again. Seonghwa _had_. In this time, Seonghwa _had_ done all that. He’d thrown away his best friend and been so horrible to him. No wonder Hongjoong hadn’t been happy to see him. 

“Why?” he asked.

“Why did you suddenly decide you didn’t want to be my friend?” said Hongjoong. “You’d know, not me.”

“Why did you invite me to your birthday party?” asked Seonghwa. “I was awful to you.”

“Well, you were my best friend before,” said Hongjoong.

“But that was before, and I was horrible,” said Seonghwa. 

He just didn’t understand. Hongjoong’s birthday was more than seven months after his own. If he’d been awful all those months, he shouldn’t have been invited. Hongjoong never invited just anyone to his birthday parties. Seonghwa had always been really proud to be invited. 

“Oh,” said Hongjoong. He blinked at Seonghwa, and then chuckled, turning away. “Damn, this is still embarrassing to talk about, even now.”

“What?” Seonghwa was lost.

“Seonghwa,” said Hongjoong. “I had the biggest crush on you when we were thirteen.”

For the second time that night Seonghwa’s mouth dropped open. 

Hongjoong burst into laughter. “I didn’t know I was that good at hiding it,” he said. “I was pretty obvious. I used to pray you’d forget your money at home so I could buy you strawberry milk.”

“That—that’s—” Seonghwa couldn’t talk. Yeah, Hongjoong had done that for him, but that was just because he was his friend, not because he _liked_ him—

“Yeah, I was a dumb kid still living in his dumb crush,” said Hongjoong. “So I invited you, hoping we’d be friends again. Obviously it didn’t turn out like I thought it would. You went to a different high school and my family ended up moving and I never saw you again.”

“No, stop,” said Seonghwa. He couldn’t think that fast right then. “You—you _liked_ me? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” said Hongjoong. “I didn’t exactly get it until you started ignoring me, though. Like I said, dumb kid.”

“Oh.” Seonghwa didn’t know what to say after that. 

Hongjoong liked him. He had a crush on him. He bought Seonghwa strawberry milk not because he was his friend but because he had a crush on him. He wanted to hold hands with Seonghwa, and be his boyfriend, and kiss him—

“Oh,” said Seonghwa again, and he started blushing.

“You okay?” asked Hongjoong. He grinned. “I didn’t know you’d be this surprised.”

“Of course I’m surprised!” cried Seonghwa. “You—you—” He couldn’t speak, his face was so hot. 

“Calm down, it was almost two decades ago,” said Hongjoong, laughing like this was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. “You okay over there? You look like you’ve had too much of your—” He peered at Seonghwa’s glass— “Sprite?”

“Fine,” said Seonghwa. He was sure his face was bright red by now. “I’m fine. I just really had no idea. Um.”

“What?” asked Hongjoong, pouring himself another shot. How many of those did adults drink before they got drunk? 

“Um,” said Seonghwa again, trying to focus. “Okay. So you really liked me? Really really? Or, like, you weren’t sure, and um—”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, which was actually great timing because Seonghwa was sure he was embarrassing himself judging from how Hongjoong was grinning. He took it out and saw that it was a text. 

From San. 

Seonghwa frowned at the screen. Why was San texting him? They weren’t boyfriends or friends. They weren’t really anything. He opened the text.

> Daddy where are you? I’m home and waiting for you ♡

He fought a groan. San kept going to Seonghwa’s apartment without asking him first, and Seonghwa really didn’t like it. Exactly how much was Seonghwa paying him for this anyway? He was already typing a reply telling him that he should leave when his phone buzzed again with another message, one that popped up full on screen.

It was a picture.

Seonghwa dropped his phone. It fell face up on the table with a loud bang, making all the chopsticks and spoons jump and clatter. Hongjoong glanced over.

Seonghwa quickly tried to grab his phone and get it out of sight, but it was too late. Hongjoong obviously saw the picture. He proved it when he grinned and said, “Don’t tell me I’m keeping you from something important.”

“No,” said Seonghwa, panicking. “No, that’s—he’s nobody, I don’t even know who he is—” He was sure he was going to explode now. 

“Seems like he knows you pretty well,” said Hongjoong. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but see…”

Seonghwa rubbed his face with both hands. Obviously San really hated wearing clothes, and it was ruining Seonghwa’s life. “He’s just like that,” he said. “He’s—we’re not anything, I swear.” He didn’t know why but it was really important Hongjoong knew that. 

“Hey, it’s cool,” said Hongjoong, still grinning like he didn’t believe Seonghwa. “You can go, you’re obviously busy.”

“I’m not,” said Seonghwa desperately, but it was too late. 

Hongjoong didn’t believe him. Seonghwa quickly sent the message telling San to leave, trying his hardest to not look at the picture right above the text, and ignored San’s complaints as he sat still and tried to look normal. Hongjoong called for the bill, and even though Seonghwa tried to pay it all they split the bill. 

“It’s not a date, you don’t need to,” said Hongjoong.

“No, of course not,” said Seonghwa quickly, feeling his face go hot again. “No, I just…” He was about to say he had more money so he should pay, but shut himself up before it spilled out. “For all the strawberry milk,” he said instead.

“Forget about all that,” said Hongjoong as he stood up. “That’s ancient history.”

Seonghwa didn’t know how to feel about hearing that. It wasn’t ancient history, not to him. He just nodded.

They separated outside the restaurant. Seonghwa got a cab, while Hongjoong hovered next to him on the sidewalk. “So,” said Seonghwa awkwardly. “Um, this was nice. It was nice talking to you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” said Hongjoong. “See you around, Seonghwa.”

When Seonghwa was safe and alone in the backseat of the cab, he went limp and groaned. He was so tired. He really hadn’t expected that when he’d called Hongjoong to meet up. It felt like he’d found out a thousand and one things. He’d started ignoring Hongjoong when he was thirteen, he hadn’t invited him to his birthday party, the only reason he’d gone to Hongjoong’s birthday party was to be mean to him. 

And Hongjoong had a crush on him. 

Seonghwa buried his face in his hands and screamed. 


	6. Friendship and more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa thinks about his new life, and Hongjoong.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” said Yunho, a little surprised.

Seonghwa smiled at him brightly.

It was Monday morning, and he was actually in a good mood. He’d woken up early, had cereal for breakfast and then gone down to the underground parking to see Yunho and let him drive him to work.

The day before had been a good day. Seonghwa didn’t have anything to do, so he spent all day at home, trying to find out as much as he could about the world of the future. He watched TV, surfed websites on his shiny laptop. While he was poking around he found a website the older Seonghwa had an account in and was already logged in, and that was when he discovered humanity’s greatest invention. 

Same day shipping.

It was the greatest thing ever. Seonghwa could pick out a thing he liked, click buy, and it just showed up at his door that day! And this website had _everything_ , it had games and fancy gadgets and literally everything that had been invented in the past seventeen years and even before. He could even order food and snacks. It was totally fine too, because older Seonghwa had a lot of money, and anyway he’d had all his card details and stuff automatically filled out, so he must’ve been okay with buying stuff. Also, Seonghwa didn’t need to explain why he’d bought all those game consoles to any adult. He _was_ the adult.

Some more stuff would arrive during the day. Seonghwa was already thinking about when his work would be done for the day and he could come back and play.

They drove along in silence for a while before Yunho finally broke it. “Sir?” he said carefully.

“I told you not to call me that,” said Seonghwa, frowning.

“Right,” said Yunho. “Just—just had to make sure.”

“That it’s not the old me?” Seonghwa beamed. “It’s not. I’m me.”

Yunho muttered something under his breath that might’ve been _Jesus Christ does he have to smile_ and kept his eyes on the road. “You’re in a good mood this morning,” he said.

“I am,” said Seonghwa happily. “I decided this life isn’t that bad. I have money, and a nice car, and I have you and Jongho-hyung to be my friends. And I think Hongjoong wants to be friends again too.”

“That’s nice,” said Yunho. “You talked to him again?”

Seonghwa nodded. “We had dinner.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him about your… thing,” said Yunho, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.

“I didn’t,” said Seonghwa. “I thought it would freak him out.” He got as close to the driver’s seat as he could. “And he doesn’t hate me! Even though I was terrible to him the last time he remembers talking to me. So it’s okay.”

“That’s great,” said Yunho, and he sounded really relieved. “So you won’t tell him. That’s great.” He gave a big sigh of relief. “Well, you were good friends, s—Seonghwa. He was probably thinking of your old friendship.”

Of course, that was it. That was all it was. It wasn’t like Hongjoong was thinking about how he’d liked Seonghwa, and Seonghwa wasn’t thinking about it either, nope, not at all, why would he think about Hongjoong _liking him_ —

“Is everything okay?”

Seonghwa started. “Fine,” he said.

When they reached their destination, Seonghwa said goodbye to Yunho and went up to his work. Some of the people there greeted him, and he greeted them back nicely before he went to his office. It was actually a really nice room, now that Seonghwa could sit back and think about it, and he let himself enjoy the view. Everything was fine. He had Yeosang after all, Yeosang would take care of everything. 

The assistant came to see him a few minutes later. He raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa until Seonghwa smiled at him, and then he sighed silently and relaxed his face.

“You have a meeting at noon,” he said. “Just sit still and don’t speak. You likely won’t be asked to say anything. If anyone does ask, tell them to come to me later.”

Seonghwa nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s my reputation on the line too,” said Yeosang. “Remember, noon.”

For a few hours Seonghwa killed time in his office, clicking random websites online. He thought about sending a message to Hongjoong, but what if it was too early? What if Hongjoong thought Seonghwa was weird? The last time they’d talked Hongjoong had told him he’d liked him, and that was a big thing. In the end Seonghwa chickened out and didn’t send the message. 

At 11:58 pm Yeosang knocked on the door to his office and they went to the meeting. It went pretty well, but it was super boring. In the middle Seonghwa got distracted and started playing a game on the Nintendo DS he’d ordered the day before (same day shipping). It wasn’t even out yet in his usual time, and he’d gotten it in one day! His chair was near one corner of the big table so no one even noticed. He was right in the middle of a game when he realized someone was calling his name. 

Seonghwa jumped and hurriedly stowed the game. He tried to look serious and mature. “Yes?”

The woman who’d called him didn’t look convinced. “What do you think, Mr. Park?” 

“Um… uh…” Seonghwa’s mind went blank. The lady looked a lot like his math teacher, and he’d always been terrified of her. He quickly looked around the table until he found the oldest, most respectable man sitting at it. “What does he think?”

“Who, Mr. Choi?” The woman’s brow furrowed. “He’s head of HR. I asked your opinion on expanding our investment portfolio past tech development.”

Seonghwa had no idea what any of those words meant. His head was empty and oh no now everyone was looking for him and waiting for an answer and—

“My assistant,” he blurted out, suddenly remembering. “You can talk to my assistant about it later.”

The scary lady side-eyed him, but didn’t say anything, and Seonghwa breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like what he’d said was kind of like 30-year-old Seonghwa, but she didn’t like it. She didn’t like him. That hurt a little, until Seonghwa remembered no one in the office liked him, and that hurt a lot.

The rest of the meeting passed safely. He paid attention until the end, though, just in case. When it was finally over and he could run away Seonghwa escaped to his office. Yeosang followed him, and as soon as the door was closed he turned on him with the most disappointed look Seonghwa had seen since he’d broken his mom’s favorite fancy plates.

“Sorry,” he squeaked.

Yeosang glared a little longer, and then sighed. “You did your best,” he said. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Unlike the last time they went to another restaurant a little further away from the office, and Yeosang ordered for both him and Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s meal actually tasted good. While he ate, Yeosang very carefully asked, “What happened to you last Monday night?”

“I don’t know,” said Seonghwa. “That wasn’t me. It was old Seonghwa.”

“Yes, of course,” said Yeosang patiently. “But what happened? Did you wake up with a headache? Maybe a bump on one side of your head?”

“Nope,” said Seonghwa. “Everything was fine. I was just a little confused.”

“And you woke up in your bed?” asked Yeosang.

Seonghwa nodded.

Yeosang was quiet for a while, thinking it over. And then finally he said, “Give me your sugar baby’s number.”

“Who?” Seonghwa was confused.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know his name,” said Yeosang. “As far as I know, you spent Monday night with him. That means he was the last person you met before your memory loss.”

“I didn’t lose my memories,” said Seonghwa. “I traveled through time because I wished on a—”

“A shooting star, I know,” said Yeosang, and for the first time he looked impatient. “Can I still have his number? It might help to talk to him.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” said Seonghwa. Last Monday was his birthday. Who had he spent his birthday night with? 

He remembered with a start. “You mean… San?” Seonghwa said with a whisper.

“Yes, if that’s his name,” said Yeosang. He hesitated. “Do you know who he is to you or…?”

“I know,” said Seonghwa.

“Ah.” Yeosang pursed his lips. “Sorry. You should be way too young to know that.”

“Well, I know,” said Seonghwa. He didn’t want to talk about _how_ he knew. He didn’t want to remember San in that pink apron or, worse, the picture he’d sent when Seonghwa had been with Hongjoong.

He found San’s contact and let Yeosang copy it. To his surprise, Yeosang excused himself and left the table to call San right then. 

Now that Seonghwa was alone he took out his phone again. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the newest one. He stared at it for some time before he went for it. 

He texted Hongjoong, _hi_.

As soon as the text showed delivered he threw the phone down on the table. What was he doing? Seonghwa had no idea what he was doing! What if this wasn’t how 30-year-olds texted? What if he was embarrassing himself? What if Hongjoong knew Seonghwa bought all that stuff because he needed to stop thinking about the fact that Hongjoong liked him—

His phone beeped.

Seonghwa grabbed it immediately. It was Hongjoong. He’d replied.

 _Hey_ , he said. _Whats up?_

What was _up_? Seonghwa didn’t know. He didn’t know why he’d sent the text. Nothing was up and what was he supposed to say?

He took a deep breath. He could do this. It was Hongjoong, his best friend. They talked all the time. Why was Seonghwa freaking out now?

_“Seonghwa. I had the biggest crush on you when we were thirteen.”_

No, now was really not the time to think about that! Seonghwa rubbed his face as he thought of a reply. Why did he text Hongjoong? What did he want? 

He wanted to see him. He wanted to talk to him again, that’s what Seonghwa wanted. Carefully, in perfect punctuation, he asked Hongjoong if maybe they could totally go for lunch or something tomorrow, if he was free. Hongjoong replied a minute later saying he’d be busy. But before Seonghwa had the chance to feel disappointed, he got another text from Hongjoong, saying he could meet for dinner on Friday instead.

Seonghwa almost jumped out of his chair in excitement. Hongjoong wanted to see him too. He quickly sent back an _okay_ , and then he and Hongjoong exchanged a few more texts about the time and place and everything was set. Seonghwa would get to see Hongjoong again. 

Yeosang came back to the table looking not very happy. “I talked to Choi San,” he said. “He says you called him on Monday saying you didn’t want to meet that night, and that he should come on his next night. And that you behaved very strangely on Wednesday night.” 

“ _He_ behaved strangely, not me,” whined Seonghwa. “He went inside my house without asking and he—he—” He couldn’t even say it.

“I see,” said Yeosang. He checked his watch. “Let’s get back to the office.”

So Seonghwa went back to his office to sit behind his desk and switch between playing games on his Nintendo and searching up stuff on the internet. He also went back to Hongjoong’s social media profile and giddily compared his pictures to his real life face now that he had met him in real life. Hongjoong was only a few months younger than Seonghwa but he looked way younger. Like he was twenty-five or something, not almost thirty. 

After way too long Seonghwa left his office, said goodbye to Yeosang, and let Yunho finally drive him home. He was sitting in the car when his phone rang. He pulled it out excitedly, thinking maybe Hongjoong wanted to talk to him, when he saw who it was and froze up.

San. Seonghwa scooted up near the driver’s seat. “Yunho-hyung, can you talk to him for me?”

“Who?” Yunho glanced back at him. “Mr. Kang?”

“No,” said Seonghwa, holding the phone out. “San.”

“No,” said Yunho immediately. “No, I’m not. Talk to your… yourself, sir. I’m not.”

“Please,” whined Seonghwa. “I don’t wanna talk to him. Please, hyung. I’ll owe you.”

But Yunho would not budge, and in the end Seonghwa had to take a deep breath and pick up with a small, “Hello?”

“Hi,” said San. “I know you said not to call but your assistant said I shouldn’t come over tonight. So now I’m calling to make sure.”

“Um, yes,” said Seonghwa. “You don’t need to… hang out with me.”

“Alright then,” said San. He didn’t sound disappointed or happy or anything at all. Somehow that hurt Seonghwa even more. Being with him really was just a job to San.

“Okay,” said Seonghwa. “Then… bye.”

“Bye.”

San ended the call, and Seonghwa breathed a huge sigh of relief. Yeosang was his savior. 

When Seonghwa got home he collected all his packages from the building’s front desk. He sorted through them while he ate cookies and drank juice sitting on his living room floor. They were all from the online company, except one, a plain brown box with his name on the top. 

It was from his parents.

He forgot all the other packages. Seonghwa opened this one up immediately. Inside the plain box sat a few jars of preserves, cherries and other fruit. There were some sealed packets of kimchi too. A couple of homemade candles were tucked in one corner. Seonghwa didn’t know who’d made them, but it seemed like the kind of thing his dad would like doing.

There wasn’t a lot—the box was pretty small—and underneath all the stuff was a small sheet of pink paper. On it was written _Happy birthday from your parents. We love you, our precious son!_

His parents were still the same, even after so many years. The thought made Seonghwa happy. He put everything that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge, and then he grabbed his phone, found his mom’s number, and called.

She picked up on the third ring. “Seonghwa,” she said.

She sounded surprised, and it threw Seonghwa off for a second. “Mom,” he said. “I got the box you sent. Thank you.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” she said. “Did you like everything? I’m sorry it’s all so cheap.”

“No, Mom, I love it all,” said Seonghwa quickly. He chewed his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His mom sounded even more surprised.

“For being awful to you before,” said Seonghwa. It hadn’t been him who’d been awful, it had been that other Seonghwa, but he knew sometimes you had to apologize even when it wasn’t your fault. 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” said his mom. “I know your job is stressful and you’re always busy. I hope you had a good birthday.”

Seonghwa thought about how he’d hung out with Hongjoong at school, and then gone to have ice cream with him after. “It was great,” he said. He thought for a moment, and then said, “Mom? Do you remember when I turned thirteen?”

“Of course,” said Seonghwa’s mom happily. “That was right before you went through your growth spurt. You were still shorter than me back then.” She chuckled.

“I had a birthday party, right?” asked Seonghwa.

“Yes, we had one for you over the weekend,” she replied. 

Seonghwa bit his lower lip again. “I didn’t invite Hongjoong,” he said. “Did I tell you why?”

“No, you didn’t,” said his mom. “I remember asking you about it and you said you didn’t want to be friends with someone who didn’t want to be friends with you.” She sighed. “I never did understand what you meant by that. The poor boy was crushed. He even came to talk to me about why you were upset with him.”

Seonghwa was too shocked to say anything. Didn’t want to be friends with him? Why would he think Hongjoong didn’t want to be friends with him? It didn’t sound like that from what Hongjoong had told him. And Hongjoong had even gone and asked Seonghwa’s mom about it…

“He was such a sweet boy,” she continued. “I thought you’d be friends forever. I wonder where he is now.”

He almost told her he’d found Hongjoong again, but stopped himself. He didn’t think it was a good idea to bring it up. Instead he talked with his mom for a few more minutes, until she had to go take care of something for a neighbor. 

“Love you, honey,” she said. “Thank you so much for calling. It’s so good to hear your voice again after so long. Are you sure you can’t come see us for Chuseok this year either?”

“I’ll try to,” said Seonghwa. “I love you too, Mom. Bye.”

“Bye!”

Seonghwa smiled for some time after she’d cut the line. If he thought about it, he kind of missed his mom. He’d lived with her all his life, it was weird and lonely being without her and the rest of his family in the big, empty apartment. 

He made himself a quick dinner and ate it, not bothering to unpack the rest of his deliveries. Seonghwa went to bed early but for a long time he couldn’t sleep, and just thought about birthday parties and strawberry milk and Hongjoong. 

“So I obviously time traveled right? But not all of me, just my brain or my thoughts or something. And instead of being a totally separate person my head went inside the body of me in this time.”

“Okay,” said Jongho. “Can I go home now?”

“No!” Seonghwa waved his arms around. “We need to figure out what happened!”

“What happened was you lost seventeen years of your memories,” said Jongho. “Stress is what happened. Or a traumatic head injury. Definitely not brain time travel.”

“Time travel isn’t possible,” said Yunho. “Generates too many paradoxes.”

They were both sitting on the living room sofa as Seonghwa paced in front of them. He still had time before he had to leave for work, and it was Friday so he knew the two of them didn’t have anywhere they needed to be either. They could figure this out.

“I thought about this all week,” said Seonghwa. 

“When did you even get the time?” asked Yunho, gesturing to the city of box skyscrapers around the living room. “How much money did you spend, s—Seonghwa?”

“It’s his money,” said Jongho. “Mr. Park can return it when he returns to his senses anyway.”

“I’m not returning anything, because there’s nothing wrong with me,” said Seonghwa stubbornly. “I’m fine. My mind just time traveled.”

“I told you, time travel is impossible,” said Yunho. “Forwards time travel is theoretically possible, but backwards? No way.”

Seonghwa didn’t like the sound of that. Did that mean he wouldn’t be able to go back to his time?

“For one, there’s the formation of parallel universes,” continued Yunho. “Also, the law of causality gets violated. Plus, forward time travel is only possible through a black hole, or some other point in reality with enough gravitational force to bend space-time, and every quark in your body would have to first get spaghetti-fied and then straightened out and…” He trailed off seeing Jongho and Seonghwa’s stares, and said, a little sheepishly, “My husband and I may have talked about this. He likes sci-fi.”

“My body became spaghetti?” Seonghwa was horrified.

“No, it didn’t, because you didn’t time travel,” said Jongho. He shot Yunho a look before turning back to Seonghwa. “Just take a few days off and get lots of rest, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Seonghwa needed to get back to his time, not back to normal. Before he could argue, Yunho was already talking.

“And assuming it did happen and only your mind traveled,” he said, “where’s your mind from this time? Where’s Mr. Park’s mind?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” said Seonghwa eagerly. “I think _he_ went back in _my_ body. That’s why I was such a jerk to Hongjoong. Because it wasn’t me, it was _him_!”

“You are him,” groaned Jongho.

“That makes no sense,” said Yunho. “The laws of causality—the cause and effect and—and sequence of events that influence past and future, you can’t—you can’t switch the order around, it doesn’t work like that, it—” He gave a cry of frustration and gave up. 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” said Seonghwa. “I wouldn’t be so terrible unless it wasn’t me. Except…” He chewed his fingernail. “Hongjoong said I was a jerk at his birthday party too, and his birthday’s in November. So did the other me stay in my body until November? Do I have to stay here until November?” The thought of it was freaking Seonghwa out. He didn’t want to stay in this time until November! 

“The passage of time might be faster in that time,” said Yunho, but he sounded kind of half dead. 

Seonghwa hadn’t thought about that. “What if it’s super fast, and like every day here is a year there?” he asked, panicking. “What if he’s already catching up in my body to this time? What happens then?”

“Nothing,” said Jongho flatly. “Nothing, because it didn’t happen. I know you’re confused, sir, but your memories will return and everything will make sense. Now you should probably go before you’re late for work.”

Seonghwa looked at the time and yelped. “I’m going to be late!” He rushed to grab his jacket and shoes. Yeosang would be really mad if he was late. 

Thankfully Seonghwa was not late. Yeosang still gave him a stink eye as he walked in, or maybe he just looked at him. Even though Seonghwa knew the pretty assistant was nice and helpful, he still looked scary. 

Seonghwa couldn’t sit still the entire day. He didn’t have anything to do, just pace around in his office while Yeosang handled all his work like usual, and he ended up thinking about seeing Hongjoong again that night. He hadn’t texted Hongjoong all week because he didn’t want to look weird, but the closer he got to Friday the more nervous and excited he got. He and Hongjoong weren’t really friends again yet, he couldn’t get too eager and freak him out, but he couldn’t help it. Things were finally going right in this year. 

When Seonghwa finally walked into the restaurant Hongjoong had chosen that night he was a little nervous to see that Hongjoong wasn’t there yet. He hovered until a waitress showed him to a table, and then he fidgeted in his seat. He was just going to take out his phone and call Hongjoong when he saw him walk in.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, smiling. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

Seonghwa shook his head. Hongjoong looked nice. The bright silver hair really suited him, and his face was a lot like it was at thirteen, though the corners of his eyes crinkled up a bit. It was Hongjoong, after all, even if he did move like a grown up. Seonghwa never realized 13-year-old Hongjoong was awkward until right now, watching 30-year-old Hongjoong smoothly slide into his seat with a relaxed smile. He wondered how awkward he was to Hongjoong.

“So what did you want to talk about?” asked Hongjoong. 

“Um…” Seonghwa tried to push away his nerves. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to see you.”

Hongjoong blinked, surprised. “Oh. Okay.”

Seonghwa regretted being so honest, but it was too late. A waiter came and took their orders before he could stutter out an excuse. Seonghwa didn’t take any risks and ordered the same thing Hongjoong did, minus the alcohol. People in dramas always ended up confessing their love or throwing up after drinking, and Seonghwa did not want to do either of those, thanks. 

“How was your week?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“Busy, like always,” said Hongjoong. “I’m sure you don’t need me telling you about it, you’re probably busier than me.”

“Not really,” admitted Seonghwa. He had Yeosang to do all that stuff for him. The most work he’d done all week was beating a few video games.

“You never told me what you do at your company,” said Hongjoong. 

“Because it’s nothing cool or fun,” said Seonghwa. “You’re much cooler than me, making music.”

Hongjoong chuckled, but he didn’t look that happy. “Forget work,” he said. He grinned. “Tell me about the pretty boy on your phone.”

It took Seonghwa a minute to understand, and as soon as he did his face went red hot. “He’s nobody,” he said. “He—he’s just a guy—”

“Sure,” said Hongjoong, grinning widely. “So who was he? A fling? A boyfriend?”

“No,” said Seonghwa quickly. “He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

Hongjoong laughed, throwing his head back. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Damn, relax. You’re blushing like a sixteen-year-old.”

Thirteen, actually, but Seonghwa wouldn’t say that. He just drank some water and tried to calm down. Hongjoong watched him, a strange smile on his face. 

“What?” said Seonghwa.

“Nothing,” said Hongjoong. “You’re different from what I expected.”

“You… expected something?” Seonghwa didn’t know why, but he felt hopeful.

The conversation was interrupted by their food arriving. As Hongjoong started eating Seonghwa thought maybe he’d forgotten the question, but a few bites in he swallowed and said, “Yeah, actually. I used to imagine meeting you again when I was in high school.”

“What did you expect?” asked Seonghwa.

“A stone cold bastard,” said Hongjoong with a snort. Seonghwa must’ve looked super shocked because Hongjoong laughed again. “I was seventeen and pissed off. I also hoped you’d grow up skinny and hideous.” He raised an eyebrow. “That obviously didn’t happen.”

Seonghwa could feel himself start to blush again. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for turning out a dream,” said Hongjoong, and snorted when he saw Seonghwa blush even harder. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t get this and worse all the time. I mean, look at you. You’re rich and successful and you look like, well, you.” He chuckled and looked back at his plate. “What was thirteen-year-old me thinking? I never stood a chance.”

“You did,” Seonghwa blurted out.

Hongjoong stopped with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth and looked up at Seonghwa.

“I—I mean,” said Seonghwa trying his hardest to pretend like his face wasn’t burning as hot as an oven, “if you’d maybe said—said something back then, I—I would’ve…” He trailed off because he didn’t know what he was trying to say. He would’ve what? Said yes? 

If Hongjoong told Seonghwa he liked him and wanted to be his boyfriend, he would say yes?

Seonghwa grabbed his glass of water and downed half of it. 

By this time Hongjoong was cackling. “I can’t believe we’re meeting again after literal decades and you’re freaking out about a crush I had almost twenty years ago,” he said.

“It’s a big deal, okay?” said Seonghwa, embarrassed. “You never said anything. How was I supposed to know?”

“I thought I was pretty obvious,” said Hongjoong with a grin. He looked like he was really enjoying seeing Seonghwa freak out. 

“You weren’t,” said Seonghwa. “I had no idea. You should’ve said something.”

“I didn’t fully realize until we were no longer friends,” said Hongjoong. He chuckled. “I told myself a million times I’d tell you, but I always chickened out at the last second. Until my birthday I was absolutely sure we’d be friends again.”

“Until I told you to stop talking to me,” said Seonghwa, feeling his gut twist. He’d done that. The other him.

“That’s one way to put it,” said Hongjoong. 

“I’m sorry,” said Seonghwa. “I don’t know why I said that. I did want to be friends with you. I—I do.”

Hongjoong tilted his head and watched Seonghwa, but didn’t say anything. Seonghwa had no idea what he was thinking.

“Forget it, it’s ancient history,” Hongjoong said finally. “Let’s eat. This place is probably not as fancy as you’re used to, but I can swear by the food.”

“No, it’s great,” said Seonghwa. It wasn’t as expensive-looking as the places he ate with Yeosang at, but it wasn’t bad. It was the kind of place his parents would take him and his sisters out to for special occasions. “Do you come here a lot?”

“When I can,” said Hongjoong. “I’m friends with the owners.”

“That’s nice,” said Seonghwa, and he really meant it. Hongjoong had friends, probably a lot of them. Older Hongjoong was a lot nicer and cooler than older Seonghwa.

They ate for a while, and in the middle Hongjoong talked about music and the kinds of music he liked and made. It was nice, just sitting and listening to Hongjoong talk. He was so cool, and when he talked he sounded so warm and genuine. Seonghwa listened avidly while Hongjoong told him about how he’d tried out a lot of different genres first before settling on the one that suited him best.

“Wow, you’re amazing,” he said in awe.

Hongjoong laughed. “Not really,” he said. “Just trying to survive. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t have tried this music thing out.”

“But it’s your passion,” said Seonghwa, shocked. “And you love it so much.”

“Yeah, a one-sided affair,” said Hongjoong with a bitter smile. “I put fifteen years of my life into it, and I haven’t really gotten anything back. That’s longer than almost any relationship would last.”

“We would’ve been seventeen years,” said Seonghwa. The words were out before he could think about them.

Hongjoong smiled wryly. “You really think we would’ve lasted if I’d confessed to you when we were thirteen?”

Seonghwa bit his lower lip. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But… but I imagined knowing you for the rest of my life. We talked about being thirty together.”

“When we were friends,” said Hongjoong. “I didn’t end that friendship, Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa didn’t know what to say to that. Hongjoong was right. Seonghwa had been the one who drove them apart, but why? Why would he do that? Why did he say Hongjoong didn’t want to be his friend anymore?

He must’ve looked miserable, because Hongjoong smiled apologetically and said, “Hey, you weren’t wrong, were you? You’re thirty, I’m turning thirty, and we are technically together.”

“It’s not the same,” said Seonghwa, miserable.

“It’s close enough, considering everything that’s happened,” said Hongjoong. “You can even think of this as a date if you like.”

“This isn’t a date,” insisted Seonghwa, but right after he said it he wasn’t so sure. They were in a restaurant, eating, just the two of them. Hongjoong looked really nice in a white shirt that was a little too big for him and a soft multicolored cardigan, and Seonghwa had tried hard to look nice too, combing his hair off to one side and wearing a nice jacket. He looked at the table next to theirs, and there was a couple sitting at it just like they were sitting at theirs, and they were definitely on a date.

He turned back to Hongjoong, wide-eyed, and Hongjoong burst into a laugh. 

“Come on, let’s get some wine,” he said, still laughing. “Celebrate on behalf of kid Hongjoong finally getting a date with Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa sat in his seat, blushing even as the waiter came with a bottle of wine for them and Hongjoong poured out two glasses. He took one glass of wine in both hands. Hongjoong looked at him over the edge of his own, smiling the entire time. 

Wine wasn’t that good. It was kind of sour, and Seonghwa decided he didn’t like it much. What he liked was the way Hongjoong smiled at him.

If it was a date, it was pretty nice, Seonghwa thought. It was nice being there with Hongjoong.

He finished the glass, just to be polite, and even drank a bit more when Hongjoong offered just because he offered with a smile. Hongjoong finished off the rest of the bottle pretty quick. But when they got up after eating it was Seonghwa who almost toppled over, and Hongjoong had to grab his elbow.

“You okay?” he asked. He said it like he was laughing, but he sounded worried too. “I didn’t know you were such a lightweight.”

Seonghwa shook his head. He wasn’t drunk, just a little woozy after getting up so quick. He didn’t know drinking was like this. “I’m okay,” he said. 

But Hongjoong still held onto his arm on the way out, and called a car to take him home. He even opened the door for him, which embarrassed Seonghwa and made him feel kind of giddy at the same time. 

“Take care of yourself,” said Hongjoong, when Seonghwa was safe in the backseat. 

Seonghwa nodded, and then bit his bottom lip as he thought of what he should say. He wanted to tell Hongjoong he’d had a good time, but he didn’t know if that was the right thing to say.

“This wasn’t too bad,” said Hongjoong with a grin. “Call me next time you want to hang out, Park Seonghwa.”

“Okay,” said Seonghwa eagerly. “It was amazing seeing you again, Hongjoong. I missed you a lot.”

Hongjoong laughed and shook his head, and then he straightened and shut the car door. 

Seonghwa watched Hongjoong for as long as he could as the car drove away, almost leaning out the window to see him for even a second longer. And then he leaned back against the seat, feeling butterflies dance in his stomach. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter count has been specified! I hope you'll like the remaining chapters of this fic ♡

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the thought process isn't well written, i haven't been 13 in... a lot of years
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'm on [tumblr](http://seonghwa-cloud.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alette_star), and I have a [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/alette_star) too if you want to talk ♡


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